


Tin Soldier

by GoldenDaydreams



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Game Spoilers, Jaal and Liam Bromance, Lexi Is Basically Squad-Mom, M/M, Pathfinder-Scott, Pre-Relationship, Relationship Status: It's Complicated, Snippets, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-23 08:16:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10715664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenDaydreams/pseuds/GoldenDaydreams
Summary: How many times had Scott heard those words?Lighten up.Even in the military, outside of combat, his fellow soldiers thought he needed to tone it down. He couldn’t. He had a switch, and it was always on. Too straight-laced, too professional, too logical; he didn’t have it in him to deviate from the manual, to improvise, or to tell his superiors to shove it. Even when it took away something he wanted, he followed logic, not his heart.---Scott struggles with his new role, his grief, and the two men who have caught his interest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is told in snippets, sorry if it doesn't always feel like the moments flow from one to the other.
> 
> When italicized, Scott and SAM are speaking on their private channel. When SAM is not italicized he his speaking over comms, or through one of his routers/speakers in the Pathfinder's room/ rooms throughout the Tempest.

Scott sat on a crate down in the Cargo Bay, data pad in hand. He worked on prioritizing missions, grouping those on the same planet together so he could save time, and fuel. Scott Ryder was nothing if not practical. He put red marks beside urgent matters, and started mapping the best course of action to get them done in a timely manner.

A loud metal clang made him jump, and he saw Gil standing over by the Nomad. “Sorry, Ryder. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” Scott replied. “Fixing the Nomad?”

“If you’d stop driving her off cliffs-“

“That happened once-“

“I wouldn’t have to spend so much time fixing her.”

Scott stared for a moment. “Those are clearly plasma holes on the side. You don’t get plasma holes from driving off a cliff.”

“I’m messing with you,” Gil said with a smirk. “Lighten up.”

How many times had Scott heard those words? _Lighten up._  Even in the military, outside of combat, his fellow soldiers thought he needed to tone it down. He couldn’t. He had a switch, and it was always on. Too straight-laced, too professional, too logical; he didn’t have it in him to deviate from the manual, to improvise, or to tell his superiors to shove it. Even when it took away something he wanted, he followed logic, not his heart.

“You alright?” Gil asked, the humour gone from his face.

Scott realized he must have let something show on his face to get the chief engineer to be so serious. “I’m fine.” He had no intention of spilling his guts to Lexi, much less Gil. He needed his crew to respect him.

“Hm, right,” Gil said, clearly not believing him. “You know, I came here with my best friend. Her name’s Jill.”

While Scott spoke with his colleagues, he didn’t try to make any personal attachments with them. The closest bond he’d created in his crew was with Suvi. In a way she reminded him of Sara, and that both soothed him and broke his heart.

“Is she awake?” Scott asked.

“Yeah.” Gil leaned back against the Nomad. “She’s in charge of repopulation, she’s currently working in Prodromos.”

“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” Scott asked in his usual point-blank manner of speaking.

Gil’s face turned from a casual grin to barely contained annoyance. “No. Not really.” With that, he returned his attention to the Nomad.

Scott stared at the other man. He understood that he’d effectively closed down conversation with Gil, and was surprised to actually feel a little bad about it.

 _[You want to talk to him, yet you closed off from conversation.]_ SAM’s modulated voice in his head told him what he already knew.

 _‘I’m busy.’_ Scott turned his attention back to the data pad in his hand.

_[You are much like your father in this aspect. Putting work before all else.]_

It fucking stung. For Scott, there was no greater insult than to be compared to his father and seen in the same light. How many times had he caught Sara crying, or doubting herself, or thinking herself unworthy because of their father’s harsh words, or criticism, or by simply ignoring her while he lost himself to work.

_‘Tell Kallo to set course for Voeld.’_

_[Affirmative, Pathfinder.]_

Setting his data pad aside, he pushed himself off the crate, landing near soundlessly. He took a step, then a tentative second one toward Gil. “I-ah… I came here with my father, and my sister.” Gil’s hands froze, and the man looked over his shoulder. Scott felt foolish. “You already knew that.”

“You never talk about them,” Gil said.

“Dad’s dead. Sara’s in a coma.” His chest constricted, and he swallowed a sob, shoved down grief he hadn’t allowed himself to think about much less deal with. Who had the time to grieve their dead father, and all the emotional baggage that came with the man when he had vaults to find, planets to save, kett to kill, and navigate too many political systems to even think about.

Gil’s stare unnerved Scott a bit, as did the long silence, as if Gil was waiting for him to say more. Finally, the engineer seemed to give up on that with a sigh.  “And how are you doing?” He held up a hand when Scott opened his mouth to answer. “How are you _really_ doing?”

“I _am_ fine,” Scott replied. When Gil’s face pinched a little in annoyance, Scott sat down on a crate by the man’s toolbox. “Have you ever seen that old Vid, The Wizard of Oz?”

“Uh, yeah,” Gil looked confused at the change in topic. “That classic with the little dog?”

Scott nodded. “There was the Cowardly Lion who wanted courage, the Scarecrow who wanted a brain, and the Tin Woodman who wanted a heart.” He paused, picking at a whole in the knee of his uniform that he would need to sew up. “My unit called me the Tin Soldier in reference to the Tin Woodman.”

Gil’s face softened. “You have a heart, Ryder.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t rule me. It can’t. Back then, I had my unit depending on me making the logical choices, not the emotional ones. It’s no different now, so… I’m sorry if I come across cold.”

 Gil sighed. “Ryder-“

Scott couldn’t take the sympathy in the other man’s voice. “I need to return Addison’s vid-call. Excuse me.”

:::

“Ryder, might I ask you a question?” Jaal asked.

Scott looked up from a requisition form, and then up further, still not used to the height of the Angaran. Jaal appeared more at home on the Tempest recently, and his comfort level came with questions about humans. Knowing he had to keep the resident Angaran happy, after all, Jaal’s opinion of him, his crew, and the Initiative held a lot of weight, he nodded. “Yes.”

The door slid open and Gil walked in, he nodded at the two of them before rifling through the cupboards, in clear, but hopeless search for something other than nutritional paste.

“Humans, they have one mother, and one father, correct?”

“If this is leading into ‘the talk,’ let me know so I can clear out,” Gil muttered.

“Biologically speaking, yes,” Scott replied to Jaal’s question, ignoring Gil’s comment.

Jaal tilted his head just slightly. “I do not understand your need to specify.”

“The parents who raise a child, aren’t always their biological parents. Some children are adopted, or there is a surrogate used, and some couples are made up of two women, or two men. Thus, some children would have two mothers, or two fathers.”

“Ah, I understand,” Jaal said, as he sat down across from Scott. “You lived with your biological parents. Your true mother, and true father.”

“Yes.”

“And you have one sister.”

Scott swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Yes.”

Jaal was silent a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “One sibling. That must have been so quiet.”

In an uncharacteristic moment, Scott burst out in rare laughter, the kind that had him shaking, his abs cramping, and his eyes watering. “Quiet,” he snorted even as he started to settle down.

“Did I make a joke?” Jaal asked, looking from Scott to Gil, as if the engineer could make sense of Scott’s behaviour for him. Gil just shrugged, but looked rather amused.

“Sara is not quiet, Jaal,” Scott said. “Sara is…” _Quiet. Silent. Comatose._ He cleared his throat. “She was…” It didn’t sound right, to use past-tense when speaking about his sister. “Is-“

“Difficult to speak about,” Jaal supplied, his features soft in sympathy.

Scott kept his eyes glued on the requisition form on his data pad. “Yes.”

‘Pathfinder, we are approaching Voeld,’ Suvi’s voice came through the PA system.

“Excuse me, I’m needed on the bridge.”

“Of course,” Jaal replied.

:::

Kadara Port was awful. Scott assumed everyone wanted to shank him, and acted accordingly. His polite, and professional nature doesn’t get him anywhere, and Vetra had to step in. The Port practically mirrored his emotions these days. Everyday a struggle, a little more pain, a little less hope, more bullshit to deal with.

Sloane Kelly set his teeth on edge. Everything about the woman was wrong, wrong, wrong. His inability to bend had him kicked out of her hideout without information.

Reyes Vidal however got information. They worked well together. Reyes, a man who made his own rules, and Scott who abided. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised with Reyes ditched him at Sloane’s party, but he was. Finding him in a store room searching cargo brought out Scott’s annoyance.

“So, I’m the distraction?”

It brought Scott a bit of satisfaction to see Reyes jump. “A little bit? Look, it’s for both of our benefits.”

“I don’t believe you,” Scott replied evenly. It didn’t hurt, maybe because deep down, he didn’t trust the smuggler.

Reyes’s eyes widened, but shifted toward the door. “Shit, someone’s coming. We need a distraction!”

Scott briefly considered the options before going with the quickest, most effective course of action. He grabbed the lapels of Reyes’s uniform, and pulled him close, lips crashing together. Despite the muffled gasp of surprise, Reyes caught on quick. The smuggler’s hand gripped Scott’s jacket, keeping him close, giving as good as he got.

“Oh!” Whoever caught them exclaimed. “Um- er… sorry.”

Reyes’s lips were a wonderful distraction, and despite being caught by one of the Outcasts, Scott felt better than he had since he woke up in this godforsaken galaxy. Reyes pulled back. “I think they’re gone.”

“Another kiss, just to be sure,” Scott whispered.

Reyes smirked. “You say the most wonderful things.” However, he didn’t give Scott what he wanted, instead he returned to checking shipping manifests until he found what he was looking for. “Ah.”

Scott glared at the bottle. “Whiskey. Out of everything, you’re stealing whiskey.”

“This isn’t just whiskey.” Reyes looked offended. “It’s over six hundred years old. It’s treasure!”

Usually, Scott didn’t drink. He didn’t like anything that could impair his judgement. “You better be sharing,” he found himself saying, because fuck it- this entire galaxy had been screwing him over since he got here.

“We’ll see,” Reyes replied, grabbing Scott’s hand, giving a gentle tug. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

::

It would take a while to get to the Nexus, and Scott busied himself by working out in the Cargo Bay. Jaal, who was sitting on one of the cargo boxes, kept looking at his data pad, then to Scott, then back again.

“Just ask,” Scott said, panting heavily as he paused in his box jumps.

“I do not wish to upset you, Ryder.”

“Shit, what kind of question is it,” Liam asked, continuing his push ups.

“It is on the topic of siblings. I recently discovered your species has something called ‘twins’ and that Scott is one.” His big blue eyes turned to Scott. “However, I know the topic of your sister is a painful one.”

“Just ask the question,” Scott said.

“The twins in the photos look very much alike. But I have Sara’s personnel file, her picture does not look just like you.”

“We’re fraternal twins, not identical twins,” Scott wiped some sweat from his brow. “For one, we’re of different genders.”

“Yes, I noticed. She has the human female secondary sex characteristics on her chest.”

Liam laughed so hard that his arms gave out and he laid on the floor. “Breasts, they’re called breasts.”

Scott grimaced. “And can we please not talk about my sisters…”

“Breasts,” Liam said again, snickering.

“Yeah, let’s not.” He stepped away from the box he’d been using, and stopped beside Jaal. He stared down at his sister’s picture. “Do you mind?” he gestured to the data pad, and Jaal passed it over. With a few taps and swipes he brought his own personnel picture up beside Sara’s. “Try just to look at the facial features, while human women tend to be softer around the jaw line and cheeks, however our eyes, nose, and lips have similarities.”

Jaal stared at the picture. “Her hair obscures her jawline in this photo.” After another moment of inspection, Jaal nodded. “Yes, I see the similarities now. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Scott replied. He only just returned to his box jumps before being interrupted by Jaal again.

“Scott, would you mind if I visited Sara when we are next on the Nexus?”

“She’s in a coma. She can’t talk to you.”

“I am aware,” Jaal replied. “However, I have read that in some cases coma patients recall conversations that happened around them. I feel I should at least say hello.”

Scott thought about when SAM managed to give him a moment to speak to her through their implants. The lies he told to give her hope. He took a deep breath, counting to seven before releasing. “No.”

Jaal tilted his head just slightly. “I understand.”

“I know next to nothing about you or the Angara. Every time I ask a question, you refuse to answer. I don’t blame you, or Evfra, or any of the other Angara who have been wary about speaking to me. We haven’t earned that kind of trust yet, but we’re working on it. You don’t say much, and it’s to protect your people,” Scott said, needing Jaal to _really_ understand. “I get that, I do. Sara’s all I have, and I can’t risk that.”

Perhaps he was mistaken, but it looked as though Jaal respected him just a little more after his little speech. The Angaran smiled just a little, and nodded. “I have siblings too. I _understand._ ”


	2. Chapter 2

Frankly, he’d rather face another vault trying to kill him than deal with the bullshit on Kadara. The Port was lawless, there were no rules, no respect, and Scott didn’t know how to act without some semblance of order. He couldn’t figure the place out, how to act or react. However, Addison was on his ass about getting another outpost, so he disembarked the Tempest.

The thought of helping Sloane Kelly was off-putting, but he needed to get an outpost down.  He met her at the cave entrance. Meeting the Charlatan. Lovely. His palm sat on the pistol strapped to his hip, his hand poised, ready to pull it out.

From the shadows, Reyes Vidal.

_‘Fuck.’_

Of fucking course. The one man in the galaxy who could make him stop thinking for a few hours happened to be the Charlatan. Asking for a duel. For Kadara Port. Scott didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge the Smuggler in any way. He barely paid attention to the terms of the agreement, of the duel.

_[Pathfinder, there is a sniper.]_

His eyes focused on the glint of the scope deep in the cave. Reyes’s sniper, Sloane wouldn’t have had the opportunity to plant one. All he had to do was point it out to Sloane to save her life.

He didn’t.

The woman fell, and the blood was on his hands.

“Scott,” Reyes said, but he’d already turned away. “Scott!”

Scott paused, and shut down his anger. “I need an outpost, will it be safe?”

Reyes looked pained. “It will have my protection, I swear it.”

“Good. I’ll get it set up,” Scott replied turning away again, only to hear Reyes’s quick footsteps, the man managing to get in front, and block his exit. He kept his face impassive. “Anything else?”

“Don’t you think we should talk?” Reyes’s voice held just a hint of desperation. “Drinks?”

“Sorry,” he said with his usual monotone. “I’m a little busy. Perhaps the next time I’m on Kadara.” He sidestepped around Reyes, and heard Peebee and Cora following. “And you two, I don’t want to hear anything about this. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Cora replied softly.

“You got it,” Peebee agreed.

::

The fight for the Salarian Arc was hard fought. Once on the path for the Nexus, Scott made his way to the ladder, each step down shot pain through his ribs, his arms burned, and his thigh felt wet- he hoped he didn’t need stitches.

_[The bullet wound on your leg is not deep, but it is bleeding. Would you like me to contact Dr. T’Perro?]_

_‘No. I’ll patch myself up.’_

_[I can assist with pain.]_

_‘No. I’ll deal with it.’_

The door to his quarter’s opened, and the lights came on. SAM’s digital signature glowed on his desk.

[I do not understand. You are usually logical. It is illogical to remain in pain.]

“Just leave it, SAM!” Scott snapped, removing his gloves.

The rest of his armour followed slowly, the pain slowing his movements until he was left in his under armour. “I can’t give you a reason, SAM,” Scott said quietly, knowing the AI would hear it even if he hadn’t said it out loud.

Pathfinder Raeka.

The Krogan.

The choice he’d been forced to make.

[You don’t have to. I was with you. And now, I am beginning to understand. However, I would like it noted that I do not like the idea of you punishing yourself this way.]

“Noted,” he said unzipping his under armour, pulling from his collarbone down to his waist. He pulled it over one shoulder, and down his arm, then did the same on the other side. The under armour hung from his hips. Bruises bloomed on his chest. Could have been worse had he not had shields first, but his armour needed major repairs, or perhaps needed to be replaced entirely.

A sound at his door before it hissed open.

_‘Couldn’t lock the door?’_

_[You didn’t tell me to.]_

It could have been worse. Could have been Lexi. Or Jaal, who would have surely alerted Lexi. Instead, Gil stood with a data pad in hand, coming in without looking up. “Hey, good thing your back. Our girl took some hits, and I’m going to need you to sign off on these requisitions so they’ll be at the docking station when we arrive at the…” Gil finally looked up and his eyes widened. “Shit.” His grip on his data pad slipped, but he caught it again. He tossed it carelessly to the desk, and strode across the room. “Shit. You’re bleeding,” Gil said pointing at his thigh, a split in the fabric exposing bloodied skin.

Scott looked down, the dark purple marks were as painful as they looked, and further to the split skin. “I’m fine.”

[He is lying.]

Gil glanced at SAM on the desk, then back to Scott. “I’m calling Lexi.”

“It’s nothing that won’t heal. I don’t need a doctor.” He glared over at the digital blue orb on his desk. “Right SAM?” his voice holding all of his irritation.

SAM remained quiet for a minute. [It will take him longer to heal without aid from Dr. T’Perro, however he is in no danger.]

Gil frowned. “Does he need stitches?”

“No.”

“Wasn’t asking you,” Gil said to Scott.

[No. However, measures to prevent infection should be taken.]

“Where’s your med-kit?” Gil asked.

“In the drawer on the right side of the desk- I can handle it,” Scott said, but Gil stepped in front of him, cutting him off.

“Take off your suit and sit down,” Gil ordered. “Either let me take care of you, or I’ll get the Doc in here.”

“I don’t like ultimatums.”

“No one does.” Gil acquired the med kit, and Scott barely managed to get the lower part of his suit off. The black material had hidden how much he’d bled. The black boxer briefs had managed to stay out of the blood, a small mercy.

Scott couldn’t help but to notice Gil’s hands. Deft, clever things, steady on his bloody flesh as they were working intricate machinery. The antiseptic wipe burned, and once cleaned up, Gil brushed some medi-gel over the wound before trashing the medical gloves.

“So, we have the Salarian Arc,” Gil said, clearly a man uncomfortable with silence. “You did good.”

Gil pulled the pain ointment from the medical kit, and Scott grabbed his wrist. “No.”

“No?” Gil shook his head. “You can’t tell me that those bruises aren’t painful.”

[He will not allow me to aid him with pain.]

Gil frowned. “We need you at your best.”

“We have days before reach the Nexus. I’ll be fine by then. I would never jeopardize this team, or our mission.”

Stubborn lips pressing, Gil looked at the medi-gel, the bruises, and finally up at Scott. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t, and I won’t. But if you can’t give me one, I’m putting this on you, and if you fight me I’ll just tell Lexi, and she’ll treat you.”

Scott stayed quiet a moment, considering his words. “Pathfinder Raeka is dead because of me. My actions have consequences. She’s dead, I have some bruises, and you’re going to leave it.”

Gil’s face became the picture of agony. “Scott.” He shook his head. “Scott, what happened on that ship… you were given an impossible choice, and I’m sorry you had to make it, but you’re not to blame for Raeka’s death. You saved so many lives-“

“She’s dead, and she’s dead because of me. And Sloane is dead because of me. And _Dad_ is dead because of me-“ His voice broke, and he wanted nothing more than to suck those words back in. He grit his teeth, trying to keep from breaking down completely.

He felt Gil shift from kneeling beside him to sitting on the couch next to him, a second later, Gil’s arm moved tentatively over his shoulder, and then gently pulled. Scott went, the fight in him snuffed, guilt too heavy, and sadness too unbearable. Pain shot through his ribs as he turned into Gil’s body, and the strange sense of protection it brought.

“Sara’s in a coma because of me,” he said, deciding to lay all his sins on the table.

“That was shit luck-“

“No. She didn’t want to come to Andromeda.” Scott’s fingers clench in the fabric of Gil’s uniform. “She was so scared of stasis, and the travel. She’s all about tech, she knew all the things that could go wrong, and now they did and if she doesn’t wake up, that’s my fault too.”

“Scott-“

“She was so fucking scared, Gil.” Embarrassingly he found himself crying in earnest, and he couldn’t even be sure if Gil could understand him. “Dad had ruined our careers with his work on SAM. She didn’t have anything left on Earth, but she didn’t want to come, but I was going, and she would follow me anywhere, I knew, I knew, I fucking knew, and I was selfish, and this is some kind of cosmic punishment-“

The pain in his ribs worsened with the sobs. He thought of Reyes, of whiskey and kissing on Kadara, of a dark alleyway, and quick, rough hands. Brief moments of distraction before everything came crashing back down.

He wanted to be drunk. He wanted Gil’s lips on his own, hands everywhere, rough, rougher, to make it hurt.

He wouldn’t ask.

Gil was his crew. The line in the sand. And in that moment, he knew he’d go back to Reyes, even after being lied to, being used, he’d go back.

Instead, Gil was gentle, soft. He murmured praise, spoke of all the good he’d done in this universe, the good he’d done for his crew, for the Angara. Maybe he said more, but Scott fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter, but only because the next section didn't blend well- so next chapter is already written and will be up in a day or two after an edit.

Scott helped Cora in her little garden. He helped Liam track supplies for the Resistance. He shared tea with Suvi. He cleaned his guns with Drack. Anything to keep himself busy and away from Gil after his embarrassing behaviour.

He had awoken in his bed, his ribs hadn’t hurt so much, and he’d blamed SAM.

 _[I didn’t do anything.]_ SAM had told him. _[Mr. Brodie applied the medi-gel to the affected area. He showed visible signs of distress at your condition. I believe that, while he went against your wishes, he had your best interest at heart. Also, perhaps it should be noted that I do not believe that he found your reasons for suffering to be sufficient.]_

Gil’s data pad still sat on his desk, and he had to return it sometime. He’d never been one to procrastinate, but he’d come up with excuses the entire morning. Enough was enough. He walked to the back of the ship with the data pad in hand. The door to the engine room opened automatically as he approached. The hum of the drive core was oddly soothing as he stepped into engineering. “Gil,” he said, announcing himself.

The engineer rolled out from under a console. “Hey,” he sat up on the rolling board. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thank you.” He felt his face burning. “And I’m sorry. My behaviour was inexcusable-“

“Shut up, Scott,” Gil said without heat. He stood, and walked closer until they stood chest to chest. “You’re not the Tinman. You’re allowed to feel things. What you’re not allowed to do, is bottle them up until they become dangerous-“

“They’re not-“

“They are,” Gil said, grey eyes narrowing.

Scott took a deep breath, collected his thoughts, and got his emotions in check. “Your data pad.” He held it out in both hands like a peace offering. “I’ve signed off on the requisitions. They should be waiting when we arrive at the Nexus within the next hour.”

Gil carefully took it back. “You can talk to me, you know.”

Scott Ryder, Pathfinder, a beacon of hope. No. He’d broken down once, and he couldn’t afford to display such weakness again. “I’m fine.”

At that, Gil looked annoyed. “Well, the offer stands.” And with that, he returned to work.

::

Scott blew out a breath. He sat in the galley, something cooked on the stove- Drack made sure they all knew not to touch it- and went through emails. A few were letters of thanks, which he actually appreciated. He had a few requests, and a few more demands from the Nexus. He brought up a new message, and added in Reyes in the contact section.

His finger hovered over the keys for a moment. What did he want to say? _Thanks for making me an accomplice to murder, but hey, I haven’t heard any complaints from my outpost._ No. That wouldn’t do. _Drinks?_ He actually typed that in, but then his finger hovered over the backspace key. With a sigh, he hit DRAFTS button and the message saved but didn’t send.

He brought up another new message and put in Harry Carlyle in the contact box. He inquired about his sister, and the state of the Nexus. He could count on Harry to cut the bullshit of politics and give it to him straight, without any pandering to one fraction or another.

With that done, he returned to the drafts box. Fourteen drafted messages. All of them pathetic, and each of them addressed to Reyes Vidal.

The door behind him slid open- and he cursed himself for not sitting on the other side of the table where he’d be able to see who walked in the moment they did- but more importantly, they wouldn’t be able to see his data pad.

Vetra stood to his left, and he knew she would look, she didn’t get to where she was by not snooping, scavenging, and generally being street-smart and smooth talking. “Be careful. Reyes lied to you. Lying isn’t something you just try once and quit.”

“We all lie,” he said softly.

Her arms crossed over her chest. “That’s different. Lying to enemies, to contacts, that comes with the territory. Lying to… friends-“

Scott ran his hand through his hair. “I know.”

“He deliberately deceived you. How many times did we have to meet with him on Kadara? How many little missions did we do on that planet? How many times did we help him? He had the time to tell you, and he didn’t.”

“I know,” Scott said again, a little edge in his voice.

“He’s a liar-“

“I know!” Scott finally snapped, his green eyes narrowed at her.

She sighed. “Be careful, Scott.”

The softness of her words made him feel guilty for his outburst. “I’ve got this,” he insisted, even if fourteen unsent messages told him otherwise. “But thanks for looking out for me.”

“I don’t do it for just anyone,” Vetra said, her gloved hand weighed upon his shoulder. “Friends only.” She patted his shoulder once, before grabbing a box of Blast-O’s from the cupboard and leaving him alone.

::

**RE: Sara’s Condition**

**To: Ryder**

**From: Doctor Carlyle**

Her vitals are strong, but she still shows no sign of waking. I wish I had better news for you.

The Nexus is running. Tann is irritating. Addison is worse. I haven’t seen Kesh in a while, but I hear that Spender’s been giving her a hard time.

I don’t know if I should even tell you this, but Addison’s been speaking about you, not in the best of light either. Watch your back with her, she always has her own best interest in mind.

Stay safe,

Harry

::

“Where to?” Kallo asked, sitting in his pilot’s chair.

Scott stood at the galaxy map on the bridge, staring into space. He thought of the message from Harry and had half the mind to go off to the Nexus and have a little chat with Addison, but he had more important things to do with his time. Addison could wait.  “Havarl.”

“Setting course,” Kallo replied.

Suvi stood, stretching out, her arms above her head tilting a bit to the left, then to the right before lowering her arms. “I’m going to make some tea.”

Kallo’s face scrunched a little. “I don’t know how you drink that foul liquid.”

“It’s not foul,” Suvi said a little heatedly. She turned to Scott. “Join me?”

“Sure,” Scott said, stepping away from the map and following Suvi to the small galley kitchen. “Have you found a substitute, for when you run out?”

“No,” she replied as she set a kettle onto the glass cooktop, and turned it to high. “Well, kind of. I’m working on it.”

“A little tea connoisseur,” Scott said with a little grin, leaning his hip against the counter.

She giggled. “Hardly. Jaal has picked up herbs that make up the Angaran equivalent to tea. I think it’s mostly safe for human consumption.”

“Is this going to be the licking the rock problem all over again?” His smile grew.

“It was for science!”

He laughed, and she joined in. “Doesn’t Lexi have some kind of test for what is safe?”

“Yes, and it’s all ‘safe,’” she air quoted the words. “However, not all of them taste good to the human palate. And a few have some side effects.”

“Side effects?”

She hummed, but shot him a pointed look. “You don’t even want to know.”

He snorted as he tried to contain his laughter. “Okay, got it. Won’t ask.”

The kettle started to whistle and she poured it over the tea infusers in each of their mugs. She bent down, moved a bunch of things and pulled out a little dish of sugar. She winked at him. “My secret stash. You better not share my secret.”

He held up his pinky. “I promise.”

She smiled, and hooked her pinky finger with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scott has a sister. He makes promises with his pinky. Fight me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter was the original chapter 4, but I wanted to hold off on the angst just a bit. In any case, that means the next chapter is already done and should be up in a day or two after I get a chance to edit.

The lights of the Tempest were dimmed, customary for the ‘night shift,’ but there was more than enough light to guide a sleepy Scott from his room to the galley for some water. Halfway there, he heard boisterous laughter. He figured, like himself, most of the crew would be sleeping. He followed the noise to the Cargo Bay and poked his head around the corner. Liam and Jaal were sitting on crates beside each other, Liam affectionately punched Jaal in the arm, and the two men laughed. Gil sat with his back against one of the Nomad’s tires, and Suvi laid on her back her head pillowed by Gil’s thigh.

Peebee was standing, although her elbows were resting on a large crate, her back bent in a graceful curve. “Those are rookie numbers!”

“You’re an Asari!” Liam replied with a laugh. “You’ve probably got a century at least on me.”

Suvi spotted him, and beckoned him with a crooked finger. “Join us!”

Scott couldn’t sleep anyway, so he approached the group. He looked around for a moment before finding a cargo box, and dragging it in closer with one hand. “Damn, look at those muscles,” Peebee said with a little smirk. Only then did he notice the glass in her hand, and the amber liquid in the bottom of it.

“Angaran ale,” Liam said, reaching around and pulling out a bottle and another cup. “You have to try it.”

“Well, it can’t be worse than Krogan ale,” Scott said, taking the drink. He took a small, testing sip. A little sour flavour, but also kind of like… “What is that taste?”

“Right!” Liam jumped out of his seat, a finger pointed at Scott. “It’s been driving me nuts. Suvi can’t figure it out either.”

“So I keep drinkin’ it,” Suvi said, sitting up just enough to take another swig, before settling back down against Gil. “For science.”

Liam groaned. “Gil says he’s figured it out.”

Gil wore a cocky smirk. “Not my fault you can’t figure it out.” He raised his glass. “Drink a little more Kosta, I’m sure you’ll get it eventually.”

“Ryder,” Peebee drawled out his name far longer than necessary.

His eyes went from his drink to the Asari. “What?”

“What’s your number?”

“My number?” He stared at her in confusion. “You have my Omni-Tool code.”

Liam, and Suvi both laughed, and both Gil and Jaal wore wide smiles- Gil trying to contain it, while Jaal beamed. Their reactions made him increasingly nervous.

She laughed. “No, silly. Not that number. Your _number._ ”

He raised a brow. “You can keep saying that word, but it’s not going to be come any clearer if you don’t explain.”

“Your sex number! You know, the how many people you’ve bedded number!”

“I- what? You… you can’t just ask someone that.”

“Sure I can, I just did,” Peebee argued.

“I am not discussing this.”

“Oh come on,” Liam laughed. “We’re all friends here.”

“He has rookie numbers,” Peebee said. “All you humans are pitiful, and our Angaran pal isn’t any better.” She shot him a sly smile. “Is that why you don’t want to say, are they really low numbers?” Her eyes widened. “How old are you, anyway? Young, yeah? Are you still a virgin?”

His face must have shown his horror because Jaal let out a loud laugh, Liam snorted while he tried to contain it before giving in, Gil and Suvi were both snickering.

Scott chugged back the ale, and set the cup down. Jaal frowned. “That is meant for sipping.”

“I have my crew asking about my sex life,” Scott deadpanned. “I needed that drink.”

“Come on, tell me!” Peebee said. “Let loose, come out of your shell, little turtle.”

He glared at her. “Don’t call me that.”

“Fine. Look, mine is thirty eight- which admittedly, kinda low for an Asari of my age. Liam’s is twelve-“

“Which by human standards, is not a ‘rookie’ number,” Liam said. “And why are you giving me such a hard time when literally everyone else’s number is lower?”

“Maybe I want to help you get it higher,” she said with an exaggerate wink.

Liam blushed, a smile creeping onto his face as he looked down at his drink.

“Anyway, Gil’s four, Suvi is three, and Jaal is two.” Peebee stared at Scott expectantly. “And you?”

“We’re talking all the way, right?” he asked, feeling a little looser with the alcohol finally hitting his system.

“Yeah, we are!” Peebee said.

Scott swallowed hard. “One.”

“WOAH! Wait,” Peebee stared at him. “You came to Andromeda a virgin?”

His face scrunched up in confusion, then smoothed out when he figured out what she thought. “You said ‘all the way.’ I never… not with Reyes.” He put his head in his hands. “We shouldn’t be talking about this.”

Peebee made a scoffing sound. “Everyone sees you as ‘The Pathfinder,’ here, don’t you want to be just ‘Ryder?’” She wasn’t wrong. He glanced over and she grinned at him. “Don’t look so surprised that I came to such a reasonable conclusion.” She gently shoved at his shoulder. “I’m very smart.”

“I know,” he muttered, unable to contain his grin. These crewmates of his had truly become his friends. Honestly, he didn’t know what he would do without them.

“I’m also gorgeous.”

“I suppose.”

Liam snorted. “Living dangerously, Ryder.”

“I’m gay, _she’s_ clearly not my type.”

“Fair enough, Scott,” Peebee replied.

It was the first time she’d ever bothered to call him something other than ‘Pathfinder,’ or ‘Ryder.’ It made him feel less on the outside, less of a figurehead, more of a friend. He wondered about that, if it was smart when he had their lives in his hands, but decided ultimately it didn’t change anything in the grand scheme, but on a personal level, it helped.

They chattered away, drinking Angaran ale, and telling personal anecdotes. “Tell us something of Sara,” Jaal requested. “This way, when she’s ready to join the crew, we will know her a little.”

Jaal’s absolute faith that Sara would wake up, and be well enough to join the crew kept his anxieties about his sister at bay.

“Sara, huh,” Scott considered it for a bit, scratching at the stubble on his chin- only there because he had run out of razors and would need to pick some up on their next re-stock. He smiled widely. “When we were, oh I don’t know, eleven? Twelve? Something like that. Anyway, we were pretty young, grew up on the Citadel.” He glanced at Jaal. “You learned about it at the Cultural center, right?”

“Yes, quite fascinating,” Jaal replied. “I did not know you lived there though.”

“Born and raised,” Scott replied, taking a small sip of the ale. “So, it was Father’s Day- uh, a day we humans celebrate our fathers.”

Jaal smirked. “I figured that out, but thank you.”

“Okay, so Sara decided to make Dad a cake. She demanded I help. We had our own credits, at that age, we were left alone from time to time. I was rather responsible for my age-“

“Hard to imagine,” Peebee chimed in sarcastically.

He shot her a dry look before returning to the story. “Sara, however, is stubborn. To make the cake, we needed ingredients. To get ingredients, we had to go to the store. We weren’t supposed to leave our apartment, but she was going, and I couldn’t let her go alone, so we went. It was all rather uneventful, we made it to the store, bought everything the recipe said, and brought it home. Together, we baked the cake.” He smiled fondly at the memory of trying to clean up the flour, and icing sugar so their parents wouldn’t know. We hid the cake in our room, and then played it off like nothing was up. Mom came home from work, and we waited. We ate dinner with Mom, but Dad was ‘working late.’” He frowned, the thought of his father still eating away at his insides. “He didn’t come home-“

“I thought anecdotes were supposed to be funny,” Jaal said, frowning.

“Well… since Dad didn’t come home, and thus didn’t appreciate us, nor our hard work, Sara came to the conclusion we should just not tell Mom or Dad, and eat all the cake ourselves.”

“You didn’t,” Suvi said with a manic grin.

“We were kids, we had a whole cake and no parental guidance.” Scott laughed. “Of course we did! We waited until after Mom went to bed and we climbed out of our bunks. Forks were decidedly too risky, so we ate the entire thing with our hands. We felt awful for a few hours afterwards. We managed to get chocolate on our pajamas, so Mom figured it out. We were grounded, but,” he shrugged, “worth it.”

“She sounds like fun,” Peebee said.

“She is,” Scott admitted. _And I miss her terribly._

::

_[Duck.]_

Scott didn’t question, he followed SAM’s order the moment he came into the Cargo Bay. A ball flew over his head. He glanced over his shoulder at the yellow ball, then to Peebee who was laughing. A second later a green ball hit Peebee in the thigh.

“You’re out!” Cora shouted.

“I was distracted!” Peebee said in a huff, but walked off to sit beside Jaal.

“What is going on?” Scott felt like he’d made a wrong turn, and couldn’t figure out what he’d just walked into.

“Dodgeball. Scott’s on my team!” Gil shouted, grabbing his wrist, and pulling him to cover. A blue ball was shoved into his hands by Gil. “Don’t hit Suvi, or Vetra, they’re on our team. So was Jaal. We need to get Cora, Kallo, and Liam.”

The crates they were hiding behind shifted apart with a slight blue glow. A red ball hit Gil in the face. “Sonovabitch! Biotics is cheating.”

“It was never stated,” Cora replied looking rather smug.

Ryder stood and whipped the ball in his hand, but she dodged out of the way, only for Vetra to hit her with a green ball. Cora took it good naturedly, and both she and Gil walked to the side to stand by Peebee and Jaal.

In an incredible display, Vetra ran, jumped up the hood of the Nomad, ran over it, jumped off while throwing the ball at Liam, but he threw his at the same time. They were both out, and laughed about it as they walked off to the side.

_[Kallo is approaching from your left.]_

Scott smirked. He rolled over the box, twisted and threw the ball back on an angle, hitting Kallo in the ankle.

“Ha! Yes!” Suvi popped up from her hiding spot. “We win!”

“Best of three?” Cora asked.

“Anyone want to place bets?” Gil asked.

“No!” Everyone replied at once.


	5. Chapter 5

The day on Havarl had run him ragged. Fresh from the shower, and dressed in a light t-shirt, and a pair of track pants, he took a walk through the Tempest. They were still docked on the planet, he planned on spending a few more days there. He already had the itinerary ready, while he told Jaal to take some time with his family while they were there, he refused and said it would be best for his family if he worked at making their home safe. Cora and Liam had spent the day running across the overgrown planet with him. Tomorrow, he would take Jaal and Peebee. Day three he’d bring Drack and Vetra. Unless they located the vault, that would change everything.

The Tempest was oddly quiet in its powered down state. He searched the galley until he found a box of protein bars, and took one.

Much of his crew had disembarked the ship, a few mentioned meeting the local Angara, and Vetra had left to pick up a new scope. It was a little eerie, the near silence. In the Cargo Bay, he found Drack with two of his guns taken apart, cleaning it with a semi-dirty rag.

Drack grinned. “Ryder.”

“Drack.”

The Krogan pushed a bottle over some cargo in his direction. “Have a drink with me.”

Scott looked around, he grabbed a mug he’d used in the morning, a bit of coffee still in the bottom, but figured it couldn’t possibly make whatever the hell Drack was drinking any worse. He poured slowly, only to have Drack tap the bottom upward so the mug filled.

Drack let out a little laugh. “Bottoms up.”

The liquid had a strange blue-ish tinge, but looked purple with the coffee. He took a small, tasting sip, and cringed. “What _is_ that?”

“Just a little moonshine from Elaaden.”

He glanced up at Drack. “Am I going to end up blind if I drink this?”

Drack shook his head. “It’s fit for human consumption.”

Scott smirked. “I think you use those words lightly.”

“Drink! You look like you could use it.”

He didn’t have anything better going on, and after a full day on Havarl he could use a little unwinding. Besides, how messed up could one mug of alcohol get him?

They chatted while they drank, and while Drack still had the motor functions to put his gun back together, even though each sip had Scott feeling fuzzier. “My fingertips are numb,” he said, and they both laughed.

Drack told old war stories, and despite the alcohol running through his system, Scott managed to pay very close attention, laughing and cheering in all the right places. They talked a bit about when they first woke up- Drack about the uprising, and Scott cursing the Scourge.

“Gotta piss.” Drack said. “Be right back.”

Scott reached over the guns, and grabbed the bottle, refilling his glass. He felt warm, a little tingly, but he could still see- which surpassed his expectations for the spirit. It still tasted foul, but less off-putting than when he’d started- he suspected it had killed some of his taste buds.

His mind wandered, from where they left off. His life had really gone to shit the moment he woke up from Cryo. No, that wasn’t right. His life had gone to shit years before that, back when Mom got sick, and Dad, who’d never been the most attentive father, seemed to disappear entirely. He had acquired only a few of the memory triggers for SAM’s memory array. A few of the memories had even been unlocked and were waiting for him at SAM Node. He needed to know- and didn’t want to know. The relationship he’d had with his father had been strained, and part of him just couldn’t handle the idea of having his father’s memories.

Why the hell didn’t he give Cora the Pathfinding duties? She’d be better suited, and she’d been his second. They’d all been trained to some degree, should Alec become incapacitated, duties should have gone to Cora, if both were taken down, only then should it have gone to Scott, despite the lack of training, from there, Liam, then Sara, then on to Team Two.

Cora was the official back up, the powerful biotic, second to Alec on the team had the most training, an SAM should have transferred to her. Scott, Liam and Sara were on Team One, but they were there to fulfill support roles. Scott as their reconnaissance specialist. Liam as Crisis Response, his multi-disciplinary skillset had him handpicked by Alec. Sara, while she’d ultimately turned away from military life going the more scientific route in the Milky Way, but in Andromeda she’d officially labeled as ‘Combat Engineer.’

 _Building and demolishing with tech- she’d get along with Peebee._ He choked on his drink at the thought. Coughing, and sputtering he managed to get his throat cleared.

They should have been on Habitat 7 together, but everything spiraled out of control. And everything continued to spiral since then. Most of the time, he felt as though he was holding onto everything by his fingertips, and only managed to keep it all together by pure force of will.

He chugged the last half of his mug, and glanced at the bottle of Krogan moonshine. Against better judgement, he poured himself a little more.

_[I advise against drinking more. Your-.]_

_‘Do me a favour, SAM?’_

A pause, as if he didn’t know what to do with being cut off. _[I am programmed to be of your assistance, Pathfinder.]_

_‘Let me drink in peace.’_

_[As you wish, Pathfinder.]_ And Scott wasn’t imagining it, the AI sounded mildly-irritated.

More of the Krogan spirit reminded him of Elaaden, a planet he hadn’t achieved much on, little more than a quick stop before getting pulled to other matters. He’d spent just enough time there to know it was disgustingly hot, and that he had a strong dislike for Overlord Morda.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Kid?” Drack asked as he returned.

His mind was a mess of things he knew he shouldn’t say but couldn’t help. “On the Salarian ship… I don’t know if I made the right call.”

“To save the Krogan? To save my scouts,” Drack pulled himself to full height, his arms crossing over his chest piece.

“I let Salarian scientists die-“

“And now you think their lives are worth more than Krogan ones?”

“I didn’t say that-“ Everything was fuzzy, his skin tingled, and it was hard to get the words in his head to all come together to make sense. It took a minute to realize Drack was talking, loudly, angrily. The Krogan paced in his tirade, boots clanging on the metal.

“Hey!” Gil’s voice cut through the noise. “What the hell is going on out here?”

The engineer went mostly ignored. “Scotty here is-“

“Don’t call me that,” Scott said, just cold enough that he caught Drack’s attention.

The Krogan huffed out a breath. “Whatever, Kid. You regret your choice-“

“Enough arguing,” Lexi’s cut in this time, coming up the ramp from the planet, the strange plants bringing a lovely scent through the Cargo Bay. “We’re a team, and noise travels. The Angaran medic I was talking with started worrying about what was happening here. He couldn’t have been the only one.” She crossed her arms. “Now, let’s behave like adults.”

“I think I might have fucked up,” Scott said, raising his glass a little at Lexi.

Drack glared. “By saving the Krogan.”

“Pathfinder Raeka was with a group of scientists-“

“I really don’t care.”

“And a lot of data was lost on the Salarian ship-“

“So you care more about their history than ours?”

“Drack, fuck off,” Scott said firmly, trying to get his thoughts out without being interrupted.

Drack took a menacing step forward. “Watch it, Kid.”

“Hey!” Gil shouted, just as Lexi snapped; “Enough.”

Her boots didn’t make much sound, but next thing he knew, Lexi stood between him and Drack. She sniffed the air a little, looked to the bottle, then to Scott’s mug. “Goddess,” she muttered. “How much of that have you had to drink?”

“Stopped counting after two,” Scott said.

Lexi pressed her fingertips to her temples. Out of the corner of his eye, Scott spotted Gil, edging closer, a worried expression on his face.

The doctor took the mug from Scott and set it aside. “You need to go drink some water, and sleep this off.”

“Not yet,” he glanced at Drack. “We’re not done.”

“I think we are,” Drack said, turning his back on him.

Drack only managed to get a few steps before Scott drunkenly stood, stumbling a little as he rushed forward, and grabbed Drack’s arm. Next thing he knew the Krogan’s hand was at his throat, his back slammed into the wall, leaving him breathless.

He heard noise- later identified as the voices of Gil and Lexi, who were each on one side of Drack trying to physically pull him back, while shouting. The hand left and he would have fallen if it weren’t for Gil.

“I’ve got you,” Gil murmured, pulling one of Scott’s arms over his shoulder as Scott sucked in a much needed breath.

Lexi and Drack were in a heated argument. Lexi, bless her, had stuck herself once again between the old Krogan and the Human Pathfinder.

“Let me finish,” Scott said, his voice a little off, but sharp enough that both Lexi and Drack turned to look at him. “A lot of data was lost on the ship. The Scientists with Raeka might have been the only ones to know it- the Genophage data. They might have cured it. By saving the few, I might have damned the whole. I didn’t think it through.” He wished for another drink. “So, I’m sorry.”

The Cargo Bay became incredibly quiet, only the sounds from the Havarl strongpoint could be heard.

“Shit,” Drack said, softly for a Krogan. He sighed. “Kid, listen, you stopped the Krogan from being next on the Archon’s exaltation list. And the Genophage… that’s not on you.”

“It is. It’s all-“ He burped, and grimaced as he swallowed down some acidic bile. He gently pushed away from Gil, and taking an unsteady step toward the ramp. Lexi rushed to him, but he brushed her off as well. “I’m going to be sick,” the words came out as a rush, his feet just as clumsy. He made it to the ramp, but not off of it, curling over himself as he vomited.

He coughed, spat, and grimaced at the awful taste left in his mouth. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. _What would Dad think if he could see me now?_ He almost laughed at the thought. Disappointment? Anger? The lecture would be unbearable.

“Scott,” Lexi’s hand on his back felt all too warm. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

He shook his head a little, then regretted it as the world spun after he stopped moving. “I have to clean this.”

“I’ve got it,” Drack said. “Get some sleep, Kid.”

He wanted to argue, but a bigger part of him wanted to just fall into bed, and forget everything about this night. “Sorry,” he muttered, his tongue numb and fuzzy.

Lexi and Gil steadied him while escorting him to his room. Clinically, Lexi helped him strip down to his boxers. She pushed until he rolled onto his side, and in a motherly gesture, brushed her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face.

Gil- who Scott only noticed had left because he noticed him returning- set down a glass of water and a few aspirin on the little dresser by his bed. The man offered a sad little smile. “Get some rest, Ryder.” And with that, he left.

“How are you feeling?” Lexi asked.

“Like I drank Krogan moonshine. I admit, it wasn’t the best idea.”

She sighed. “We both know this isn’t about moonshine.”

He glanced up at the Asari, and found her blue-grey eyes full of warmth and sympathy. He sucked in a deep breath. “You knew my dad.”

She didn’t appear surprised, nor taken aback by the statement. “Yes. Professionally though, not personally.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Sometimes, I think that’s how I knew him too.” He pulled the blanket a little higher, twisting it in his fist. “I think he would have done a better job at all this. He would have known the right thing to do, the right thing to say, and he wouldn’t keep looking back, second guessing every move.”

“I respectfully disagree,” she said.  He tore his gaze from the sheets and looked up at her, it felt like something that demanded his attention. “Alec always thought he was right, even when he wasn’t. You ask for opinions, you care about your crew, and you understand that your decisions have repercussions for all involved and you take that into consideration. You care with a depth your father just… couldn’t, even if you do your best to hide it. You’re a good man, Scott. And you are _not_ alone.”

His breath came out a little uneven as he battled back his emotions. The last person to say something so nice to him would be his mother, the last time he saw her. “Thanks,” he whispered, not daring anything louder in fear his voice would crack.

Her fingers threaded through his copper hair once again, brushing it back. “If you ever need to talk, you know where I am.”


	6. Chapter 6

Scott and Jaal held the Moshae up between them. The Cardinal spoke, but Scott couldn’t see past his own rage. He saw the pure terror, and the horror on Jaal’s face as they watched an Angara go through exaltation. SAM kept him up to date, simplifying things as he felt his temper reach a level he hadn’t felt since he was seventeen and accidentally discovered the bruises on his sister’s skin. 

_[The Moshae wants this place destroyed. Jaal wants his people to have time to be saved.]_

Scott wanted to destroy, obliterate this horror palace, but Jaal’s wide, expressive eyes begged. “Release the Angara, and I’ll leave this place standing,” Scott said through gritted teeth.

The Cardinal did as ordered, then turned, still speaking, but Scott didn’t hear a word of it through the static of rage.

Scott took one step away from the Moshae, gripped, and raised his assault rifle. With a burst of three rounds, he killed the Cardinal.

The rage stayed with him through battle to get to the drop-ship. There were Kett everywhere, and then there were the fiends. Because of-fucking-course.

He reloaded, time after time, counting down till he could use concussive shot again. “We need that evac!” he shouted over the gunfire.

[ETA two minutes.]

“Fuck!” Liam shouted.

“Keep moving!” Jaal lobbed a grenade which bought them enough time to keep ahead of the fiend.

Scott rammed his omni-blade into the nearest Kett, brought his gun back up, and shot another. They kept moving. Tucking down behind some crates only helped for a little while. Shields regenerated, but if they stayed in one position too long they’d be cornered in.

“Move!” Liam shouted. “Move, move, move!”

The charging fiend just missed them, and they saw their shuttle coming in. Collectively, they ran with the Moshae up the stairs. Scott put up a barricade to help buy them a bit more time, firing carelessly at the Kett, keeping them back while the other’s boarded.

“Ryder!” Liam shouted. Scott risked looking back, but saw Liam hanging out of the shuttle, beckoning him with a sweeping arm gesture. “Come on!”

Scott fired with one hand, the bullets flying wild, but keeping the Kett back as he ran from cover and jumped onto the ship. The door slammed shut and they were flying away.

::

In his quarters, Scott sat in just his track pants in the middle of his bed, his feet crossed under him. His hands rested palms up on his knees. He breathed in deeply through his nose as he slowly counted to four, then breathed out through his mouth to the slow count of seven. He hadn’t felt the need to meditate in years.

He could remember all too clearly the last time his hot-headedness got the better of him, the subsequent problems that his father had managed to officially sweep under the rug, all while Alec Ryder gave him the talk down of a lifetime, and a grounding he wouldn’t ever forget. He also remembered that his father never asked him why he started a fight with that group. _‘You must behave yourself, Scott. You’re a Ryder, act accordingly. This behaviour is embarrassing at best, and damaging to both your mother’s, and my reputation. Are you even listening?’_

Yes. He’d been listening.

[You are very protective of Sara.]

Scott counted as he took in another deep breath. “Of course.” Speaking threw off his breath count. He started again on an inhale- one, two, three, four. Exhale- one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.  

[Why did you start that fight?]

He went through another round of his inhales, and exhales before he opened his eyes, and glanced over at the white-blue digital orb display that was SAM. “You have access to my memories.”

[You were reminiscing, it allowed me to see your memory as you remembered it. However, I have little context. I do not understand why you chose the path that you did. You are not usually rash in your decisions, however, this decision was made out of anger, careless, and without your typical fore-thought.]

Scott sighed, and gave up his meditation. He ran his hand through his hair, it was getting a little too long, but as a child it had been his mother who’d cut his hair, as an adult, it had been Sara. With a sigh, he sprawled out on the bed.

“It was mid-day, I didn’t think anything of just walking into Sara’s room,” he said, figuring it as good of a place to start as any. “Didn’t occur to me that she might be changing, but she was- luckily wearing her pants and a bra.” He swallowed against the lump that had lodged in his throat. “Her skin was all purple around her ribs. I grilled her about it, it took her a while, but she finally told me what happened. This group had been picking on her for weeks. They thought she got preferential treatment because of Mom’s research on biotic implants, or maybe because of Dad’s work in N7, I don’t know. Sara’s just smart. She got to the top of her classes all on her own. She would get a free-ride into any program she wanted, even though Mom and Dad could afford it, and they were jealous.”

Scott rubbed his temples. It hurt to think of his sister, even worse to think of her at a low point in her life, crippled with self-doubt, and a deep inferiority complex. “She told me it started small. Shoves in the hallways. Scathing remarks spat at her. And then it got worse. There was a fight, the Asari started it, but Sara finished it. She thought that one fight would be the end of it, but the Asari had likeminded friends. They ganged up on her in a secluded part of the Citadel with little security.”

[While the Asari, and the Human male were comparable or lesser in both weight and size, combined would have put you at a disadvantage. The two larger Turian males made winning the fight against the group a statistical unlikelihood. So, why did you start the fight, Scott?]

He felt his anger under his skin. “Because Sara is family. Because she’s my sister. Because I love her.” Of course he would fight for her, it felt odd to even be asked why. “I fought because they hurt her, and Sara should never be made to feel small, or scared, or hurt, or unworthy, or unlovable. They needed to know that there would be consequences if they ever so much as looked at her the wrong way again.”

SAM remained quiet for a moment, processing. [Thank you for your candor.]

Scott sighed. “You’re welcome.” He sat back up, and returned to the lotus position. Despite the earlier meditation, all the tension had returned to his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he started again.

::

After being reamed out by Director Tann, and having to suffer through a disrespectful talk-down from Addison (despite being the only one helping her track down Dr. Kennedy), Scott made his way to the Cultural Center to find Jaal.

“I like this place,” Jaal said with a grin. “I’m learning so much.”

Scott took a deep breath, Jaal had been more open, clear in his trust of Scott since they rescued the Moshae. He wanted to show Jaal that he trusted him too. “Look, a while ago you asked to meet my sister.”

“Is Sara awake?” Jaal asked, with a great deal of hope.

“No,” Scott replied. “But if you wanted to sit with her- you asked before, it’s fine if you don’t want to-“

“I do,” Jaal said, appearing to understand and respect the level of trust Scott was instilling in him.

Together, they took the tram, and Scott hated the way his stomach tied up in knots the second they took a step out into the cryo bay.

The doors opened with a slight hiss, and his eyes immediately went to Sara.

Even when they were on the Nexus, he didn’t often visit. It hurt too much. On the Tempest, he can imagine she’s just on the Nexus, working, not laying in a bed, dead to the world around her. They travelled six hundred years, gave up their lives on Earth, for what?

Scott pointed. “That’s Sara.”

“Yes, I recognize her from her personnel file,” Jaal said. Scott only made it three steps toward the door before Jaal called his name. “Where are you going?”

“I have to talk to SAM.” Scott didn’t look back. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in the Angaran’s eyes. He knew how important family was to the Angara, and there was no way that Jaal wouldn’t look down on him for walking away from his sister in such a state. However, logic dictated that Sara was in good hands, and he’d unlocked another of their father’s memories. He needed to speak to Tann about the embassy on Aya, ensure they’re requisitions filled, sell junk cargo, and buy new weapons, and have his armour patched. It was illogical to waste time talking to someone who couldn’t hear him.

Besides, he couldn’t bear the stillness of her.

She looked too much like their mother the last day he saw her. 

::

Scott sat down on the floor in SAM Node. A pre-dinner memory of his fathers knocked the breath from him. The voice of his father brought up his survivors guilt. His mother had looked so real, her voice firm but friendly. Sara, awake, a little bit of a smart-ass, excited about her dig site. His family, all together, alive.

His lungs felt like they were weighed down with sandbags. A curse escaped his lips. His head tipped back and thumped against the console. He wanted them back so bad it hurt. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes so hard he saw little bursts of light. The memory had been so real, if a little strange to see himself across a table. His mother within reach. The entire thing was disorienting.

 “I hate this,” he admitted. “I hate these memories. They’re not mine. What purpose do they serve?”

[Unknown.] SAM remained quiet. Scott wondered if the AI just knew he wanted a minute of silence to wallow in the absolute clusterfuck his life had become. [There are additional memories available.]

While he would rather ignore the memory triggers, the locks on SAM, just ignore the whole damn business, he couldn’t. He stood up, and faced the console. He’d faced gunmen with less nervousness. “Alright, SAM.” He took a deep breath. “Play it.”

From the next memory, he learned about the Benefactor. At least, about the existence of him/her. Nearly nothing else. Joy of joys.

[You have one more memory. Would you like to see it?]

“Sure, maybe Dad learned more about the Benefactor,” Scott said with a shrug. If his father had gone through all this trouble, it had to be important.

But the next memory wasn’t about the Benefactor. He took three sudden steps backward when the memory ended and he once again saw SAM node clearly. The memory had been so clear. His mother laid out in the medical bed, pale, and so close to death. Sara choked up with emotion. Scott himself trying to keep himself strong, strong for his mother, for his sister.

_“When your back’s against the wall… if you can’t run from it, use it.”_

He couldn’t run from his mother’s death. He couldn’t use it either. His grief was like a bleeding wound, but instead of treating it, he ignored it, let it bleed and fester- threw some gauze over to buy more time to ignore it some more.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I… I didn’t expect that.”

[Death remains an elusive concept for me. A finite end in a cosmos otherwise filled with limitless possibilities.]

“All things end,” Scott said a little bitterly. “Somethings end before their time. Mom shouldn’t have died so young. We should have had more time with her.”

[I was created to save her. I failed.]

Scott glanced up at the orb display. “You can’t win a fight against death.”

[I detect additional memories, but they are currently locked. They may yet hold answers.]

“Thanks, SAM.” The memories of the Ryder clan left Scott feeling off balance. Rather than return to the Tempest, even with their scheduled take off less than an hour away, he made the trip to the Cryo bay.

Seeing Sara awake, hearing her speak through those memories. He half expected her to be sitting up, making wise-cracks. Instead, when the doors open, he found Harry sitting in a chair beside her bed, appearing to be working on something even with the lights dimmed for the night cycle.

“We’re waking up another section tomorrow,” Harry said. For a second, he thought he’d been noticed, but then realized that the doctor had taken to speaking with his unconscious patient. The Cryo bay oddly empty of patients and other medical personnel. “Your brother has been very busy. The outpost on Eos is doing well, better than expected honestly. We’re waking up another science crew to send down there. You’d be proud of him, Sara. However, you really should endeavor to wake up soon, save him from his own emotional constipation. I remember you were always good at doing that. Like that one barbecue on the Citadel when you threw glow sticks at him and told him to lighten up.”

Scott smiled at the memory. Harry, a friend of Alec’s, showed up every now and then, but mostly he was a man that was heard of. _‘Oh, just getting a drink with Harry,’_ his father would say before kissing his mother and leaving their Citadel apartment, but that was all before. Before Alec’s promotion. Before Ellen got sick. Before Alec threw himself so far into work, and Sara and Scott finished their education, started their lives in their respective fields. Scott hadn’t seen Harry for years before Alec brought them all into the Initiative fold.

“In any case,” Harry said, glancing away from his data-pad and looking to Sara. “I should get to pod prepping, unless you have any tantalizing conversation you want to make?”

Sara’s monitors continued their steady hum.

Harry sighed, and stood. Scott turned away. Sara was still doing the same, and now, with the edges of the memory fading, he felt a little better. Knowing his sister was in good hands, he headed back toward the Tempest.  


	7. Chapter 7

Liam was always trying to come up with ways to get the team together as a group. His latest scheme had half the team staring at him as he and Jaal navigated a large table up the ramp of the Tempest. Scott glanced at Vetra who made a confused little humming sound. Gil shrugged his shoulders. Suvi’s eyes were on the table, squinting, and tilting her head as if, if she changed her view she’d suddenly understand.

Kallo walked into the Cargo Bay and came to stand beside Cora. “Why are we bringing a large table aboard?”

“I have no idea,” Cora replied.

“Liam,” Kallo said, cutting to the source. “Why do you have a table?”

“The galley’s table is so small. We can’t have big team dinners. We eat on schedules.” He shuffled a bit to the left and then nodded. Liam and Jaal set the table down carefully, but the feet hitting the metal floor still let out an echoing sound.

Gil crossed his arms over his chest, his uniform tight over muscles. “Well it can’t stay there. We need pathways open for cargo being loaded and unloaded. Not to mention, I need the access around the Nomad.” Scott caught himself staring at the engineer, and turned back to glare at the table.

Liam nodded. “But where should we put it?”

“You really should have thought of that before buying it,” Vetra said.

“Hey, why are their chairs down here?” Peebee’s voice got louder as she climbed the ramp, a chair in hand.

“They’re for the table,” Liam replied.

“For what? Tempest family dinner,” Peebee said, a touch sarcastically.

“Yeah!” Liam grinned.

Scott started to consider options. Engineering and the bridge were automatically out. The Cargo Bay was nearly full, and they needed those paths clear, so Cargo Bay was out. Galley was too small to begin with. Medical Bay out. Crew Quarters were already cramped. Liam’s little room was taken up by the couch. Vetra, nor Peebee had enough space as is. Tech room couldn’t contain the table, neither could the Bio Lab. He crossed room after room off the list until he found the one place it could fit. He scowled at the table.

“There is only one place it can fit,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“Where?” Liam asked.

“My room,” Scott replied. “Where it is not staying permanently, I can assure you.”

“There must be somewhere else.”

[Given scans of the Tempest, the dimensions of the tables and chairs, there is nowhere else that will not interfere with pathways and escape routes, Mr. Kosta.]

“Shit,” Liam replied.

[However, the tables and chairs are Initiative made. There are press points that will allow the tables and chairs to fold into much smaller dimensions which can be stored in nearly any space on this ship.]

Liam looked around till he found buttons and grinned. “Nice, thanks, SAM.”

[You are welcome.]

“What’s with the chairs?” Drack’s voice boomed from the ramp.

Scott sighed.

::

While Scott hadn’t expected his room to become a dining area, that’s what happened. Liam and Jaal navigated the table and chairs into the room. Drack cooked dinner, and ‘accidentally’ burnt Suvi’s desert. After hearing about the table, and plans for a group dinner, Lexi had disembarked the Tempest and purchased a tablecloth with intricate sewn designs from an Angaran on Nexus. Vetra pulled a few bottles of wine out of her cargo. Gil supplied a couple of candle tapers to ‘make it real fancy,’ when asked, Gil admitted he’d won them in a low stakes poker game on the Nexus, but didn’t know what to do with them. Peebee, and Kallo contributed by setting the table. Cora plucked some of her plants to make a centerpiece, mostly out of ferns.  Scott… well, he gave up his room.

Conversation was slow in the beginning, everyone sticking to basics of passing around the food dishes, complimenting Drack’s cooking, commenting on how tragic it was that Suvi’s desert burnt (while everyone secretly sighed in relief,) and actually eating.

“This wine is actually pretty good,” Lexi said, setting down her stemless wineglass.

“Traded for it on Kadara of all places,” Vetra replied. “If you really like it, I’ll see if I can get more.”

“That would be lovely,” Lexi replied.

“Oh wow,” Suvi licked her lips. “You weren’t kidding this stuff is amazing.” She glanced at Scott. “Aren’t you going to have some?”

“Not a fan of wine,” he admitted.

“More for me,” Suvi said, smiling at him.

Scott stabbed at his food, not sure what the meat content was, and frankly, too afraid to ask. It tasted good though. Some of them also had salad, the leaves on Havarl were fit for Human, and Asari consumption. Scott tried some, and frowned. He glanced over at Jaal, who seemed pleased with the paste Angara always ate. “Do you ever use these plants in those paste things?”

Jaal’s large blue eyes turned over to him. “Yes, delicious, aren’t they?”

“No. No they aren’t.” Scott pushed the leaves away from the rest of his food.

“You need to eat your vegetables,” Lexi said, picking up her wine glass. “And those greens are very high in iron!”

Peebee made a show of rolling her eyes. “Okay, Mom, we’ll eat the veggies!”

Lexi glared at the other Asari over the rim of her wine glass. “You’re the reason why I drink.”

Peebee grinned, and it was almost as if she took it as a compliment.

“So, where are we off to next?” Kallo asked.

“I need to check in on Voeld,” Scott said. A groan coursed from around the table. “Yeah, I know, freezing temperatures, no one’s favourite planet, but there are a few missing scientists from our outpost, it needs to be priority.”

“I got a new part for the Nomad,” Gil said, stabbing at the greens on his plate. “It’ll enhance the heating system-“

“Bless you,” Cora said. “Last time it was so cold in that thing I thought my armour was going to seize.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be having that trouble this time around,” Gil said. He stuffed his mouth with the greens, chewed a bit, and swallowed. He looked at his plate, then Scott. “They aren’t that bad.”

Scott smirked. “You can have mine then.” Lexi cleared her throat loudly and glared. Scott sighed. “I think I liked it better when you weren’t watching me eat.”

Conversation progressively got louder as everyone joined in, breaking off into side conversations and re-joining the table.

“So, he was all like, ‘don’t worry Sweet Honey Bunch, I’ll take care of you,’” Peebee dropped her voice in a poor imitation of the man she talked about. “And that’s when I knew, I had to get out of there. Sweet Honey Bunch? Gag. Everything he said had some human term of endearment at the end.” She glared across the table where Gil, Scott, and Liam, three human males, conveniently sat. “Your kind are such saps.”

“Not all of us,” Liam said in the defense of men. “In fact, I would say that is a minority.”

“Agreed,” Gil chimed in.

Peebee raised a brow in clear disbelief, her eyes narrowing on Gil. “You call the Tempest your ‘baby.’”

“That’s different,” Gil replied.

Peebee speared some of the meat on her plate. “So you’ve never used pet names with your boyfriends?”

Gil remained quiet, his eyes squinting a little. “Maybe? But I use more nicknames than pet names.” Peebee looked confused. “Like calling you Peebs instead of Peebee. It’s not the same.”

“Oh.” She deflated with her argument. “What about you Kosta?”

“If he does, it’s probably just because he can’t get the girl’s name right,” Cora said with a wicked smirk.

Peebee laughed. “There is a story here, isn’t there?”

Cora just smirked into her wine.

Liam sighed. “I may have been seeing these two women, one on Kadara, one on the Nexus. Totally casual,” he said in his quick defense. “Neither exclusive, but they both had similar names, Jess and Tessa… but I had a few to drink, and I couldn’t remember the name of the one I was with, soooo, I referred to her as Darling, and it worked out fine.” He glared at Cora. “And I shouldn’t have told you about that.”

“This is great,” Peebee said. “Come on, let’s share worst date stories. Don’t lie, we’ve all had them.” She looked around when no one volunteered to go first. “Come on, I told you about Mr. Sweet Honey Bunch!”

“Food poisoning,” Gil said. “Enough said.”

“Really?” Cora smiled widely, on the edge of laughter.

“Puked on his shoes,” Gil said with a sigh. “First date, and just my type. Never even got to first base with him. Damn shame.”

Jaal nudged Liam. “What is first base? And does this imply other bases?”

Cora snorted, and nearly choked on her wine.

“It’s… a baseball metaphor we use for sex,” Liam explained awkwardly. “First base would be kissing.”

“So, things didn’t work out after that?” Vetra asked.

“Nothing kills the mood quite like vomit,” Gil replied. “Definitely not a good first impression. Someone else go, remembering at time I struck out is depressing.”

Liam told them a story of being at a bar, and working on this one girl even though her friends were around. Eventually the other girls started tapering off. “It was just me and her. She was flirting back, things were going great, and so she tells me she’s going to ‘freshen up,’ gives me a wink, grabs her clutch and saunters off to the ladies room.” He pushed his empty plate a little, and pulled his wine closer. “So I wait. And wait. And wait.”

“She ditched you, didn’t she, Kid?” Drack asked.

“Yeah, with the 834 credit tab for her and her friends,” Liam replied.

“Savage,” Cora said with a wicked smile.

“You got one?” Peebee asked Cora.

Cora frowned and reached for the bottle of wine. “Some guy took me to a bikini bar first date.”

“Real classy,” Liam said with a laugh. At Jaal’s confused look, Liam took mercy. “A bikini is something some women wear while swimming.” He used his omni-tool to bring up an orange holo of a Human woman in a bikini. “See.”

“So… the people were swimming at the bar?” Jaal asked.

“No, they were dancing. On the tables. For money.” Cora filled her glass, and set the bottle aside. “He paid so much attention to the dancers he didn’t even notice me leaving.”

Jaal still looked confused. “How could a man not notice you?”

Cora flushed. Peebee sat a little straighter a shit-eating grin on her face, before she could say anything, Scott kicked her under the table, when her eyes narrowed on him, he slowly but firmly shook his head. She sighed.

“What about you?” Cora asked Jaal. “Bad date story?”

“The only woman I was ever serious about fell in love with one of my brothers.”

“Ouch.”

“Indeed.”

“Scott, you must have one!” Peebee asked, clearly still annoyed by the kick, or perhaps by his order not to bother Cora and Jaal.

Scott gave a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders. “Mine doesn’t make as great of a story as yours.”

“Come on, tell us!” Liam prodded.

“I puked on my dates shoes, that is humiliating, you owe me your worst date story,” Gil tried.

“You volunteered that information,” Scott replied, “that doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”

“Fine,” Gil conceded. “But I still want to know.”

Scott glanced around the table and found everyone’s eyes on him. He sighed heavily. “Fine.” He huffed out a breath of mild-annoyance, but discovered he really did want to let it out. “I had been seeing this guy for about six months. His name was Derrick.” He chewed on his lip, and pushed some of the leaves on his plate around. “We were both assigned to an outpost near Arcturus Station, Relay 202. It’s where we met. When things got serious, we worked it so that we could get our shore leave at the same time. Things were… great.”

“Did you puke on his shoes?” Gil asked.

“No.”

“Did he puke on yours?”

Scott couldn’t help but grin, even while he tried to glare at Gil for interrupting. “No.”

Gil squinted, a playful smirk on his face. “Continue.” 

“That last date, he managed to get us a shuttle. We had dinner on the nearest planet, it was incredible, still goes down as the best meal I’ve ever had-“

Drack glared at him.

“We went for a walk by a lake after, sat on the shore, held hands, and stared at constellations I didn’t know. Everything between us was easy.” He swallowed against the growing lump in his throat. “Everything was perfect, and I realized I was in love with him.”

“Worst. Date. Ever,” Peebee said slowly, as if he were too dumb to understand. “Not Best. Date. Ever!”

“You have to understand that it was the best date ever to understand that it was the worst date ever,” Scott replied. “Now do you want me to finish the story, or not?”

She sighed. “Proceed.”

“We took the shuttle back. Went to my place.” Scott felt his shoulders tense. “We… uh... you know.”

“Bow chica wow wow,” Liam said with a grin. 

“I have no idea what that means,” Jaal said.

“They had sex,” Peebee chimed in.

Scott felt his face going red. “It was my… uh…”

Cora took pity on him. “First time?”

Scott’s elbows rested on the table and he put his face in his hands. It was easier telling the story without actually having to look at anyone. “Yeah,” he muttered.

“And he was terrible in the sack?” Drack guessed.

“No, he was great,” Scott said.

“So, what happened?” Lexi asked softly.

“He was gone the next morning, which was normal- even when we were just… fooling around. I’d fall asleep and he’d be gone by morning. His shifts were usually started during the early day cycle, and mine were more mid-afternoon. But that morning I woke up to this banging on my door- three soldiers telling me to pack up, I was being discharged.” His hands dropped when the anger kicked in. “I didn’t know what was going on. I tried getting them to talk, but they were just following orders, I don’t think any of them knew the reason. So… I packed.”

It hurt to even remember that morning. How could one’s life fall apart so completely in such a short amount of time? Since Habitat 7 he knew better than to underestimate such occurrences.

“I got pinged by Sara. She screamed and cried, and was just as confused as to why she was getting kicked off her dig. She was an absolute mess, but I managed to calm her down. We were both getting shuttled back to Earth, so we agreed on a meeting point. We’d figure everything out then.” Scott leaned back in his chair. “I called every contact I had, and considering my parentage, I had plenty both in the military and scientific community. Found out we’d both been practically blacklisted. My superior officer, when I finally got a hold of him, was apologetic, explained it was about my father’s illegal AI research. Said if it were up to him he’d keep me, but the orders came from over his head.”

Gil’s hand brushed along his arm in silent comfort, and as much as he wanted to reach for it, and grab Gil’s hand, he stayed still.  

“I spent the entire ride to Earth trying to get an audience with the Systems Alliance Military leaders. Didn’t succeed. And then I got an e-mail. From Derrick. And I thought to myself, finally,” he’s voice lowered almost ashamed of the confession, “someone I can lean on.” He shook his head. “Instead he thought it would be in ‘everyone’s best interest’ if we stopped seeing each other. I loved him, and I was nothing but a name drop to him, he didn’t love me, he loved being the boyfriend of Alec and Ellen Ryder’s son.” He glared at the wine, wishing it was whiskey. “Guess that’s what I get for dating someone into politics.”

“Shit,” Peebee said, looking shell-shocked.

“What a douche,” Liam commented.

“If it helps, it’s been over six hundred years, so he’s dead,” Vetra supplied, and everyone turned to stare at her. She blinked. “What? It’s true.”

Scott shrugged. “Still feels fresh, I mean, that all happened three months before I got put into Cryo-Sleep. And those three months were basically watching everything I’d worked my entire life for be taken away, Initiative training, and mom dying.”

“Shit,” Peebee said again.

“So, yeah, I guess it helps that now he’s dead,” Scott frowned. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“Nah,” Liam said. “He could have lived a long healthy life and died. I mean, I hope he had a terrible career, had a string of awful dates, got left with a tab for 834 credits, puked on his dates shoes, and suffered through being called Sweet Honey Bunch, and died alone… but I don’t think that makes either of us horrible.”

Peebee slammed her hands down on the table and stood so fast that her chair toppled.

“What?” Suvi jumped, wine just barely staying in her glass.

Peebee pointed at Scott. “We need to get you a date!”

“What?” Scott’s face scrunched, then his brows furrowed when he realized what she was thinking. “No.”

“Yes! That was your last real relationship. By the Goddess! I won’t stand for it!” Peebee said. “Well, I am standing, but not for your garbage relationship.”

“Sit down,” he ordered. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

“Listen! You need a man who’s not a total jerkwad!” Peebee said passionately. “I’m going to find him for you.”

“Peebee. No.” Scott rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Peebee, yes!” She said. “Between that Derrick guy, and Reyes, you haven’t had the best of luck.”

Scott dropped his hand, and turned the full force of his glare on her. “Stay. Out. Of. It.”

Peebee paused, sighed, and pulled her chair up to sit back down. “Fine, you know where to find me when you inevitably want to take me up on that offer.”

Despite not liking wine, he reached for the bottle.


	8. Chapter 8

Scott woke in the middle of the night cycle, cursing the few glasses of wine he’d had with the crew. Not enough to get him drunk, but enough to make him have to pee when he’d much rather have remained sleeping. The lights slowly grew brighter, but still remained fairly dim. “Thanks, SAM.”

[You’re welcome, Pathfinder.]

He walked around the table. While the dishes had been cleared, it still had Cora’s centerpiece, the candles from Gil, and a few empty wine bottles on it, everyone too tired to finish cleaning up. The door to his room slid open with a slight hydraulic hiss.

Mouth open wide as he yawned, and shuffled barefoot along the cold metal. The door to the bathroom read ‘occupied.’ “Damn it.”

Really, one bathroom on a ship this size? And really, how dare his pathfinder quarters not have a goddamn bathroom? Couch? Desk? Large bed? Wardrobe? Stereo? All big checkmarks, but a bathroom, apparently that was too damn much.

Shifting uncomfortably side to side, he waited.

And waited.

He seriously considered going back to bed, but knew his protesting bladder would just keep him awake.

Then he heard it, a cough followed by the sound of someone heaving into the toilet. More coughing, another heave, and a groan.

“Hey, you okay in there?” Scott tapped lightly on the metal door. He was answered by more heaving, and Scott cringed. “SAM, get this door open.”

A moment later, the lock flipped from ‘occupied’ to ‘vacant,’ and slid open.

He found Gil on sitting on the floor, back against the wall by the toilet. Skin pale, and sweating, eyes clearly sick, exhausted, and frustrated. “What?”

“I have to piss.”

“Piss in the shower,” Gil replied, “and go away.”

Scott frowned, and turned to the sink, grabbing a wash cloth underneath, he wet it with cold water, rung it out. He crouched near Gil, despite the man’s clearly not being amused by the situation. “How long have you been like this?” he whispered, as he gently wiped Gil’s sweating face with the cool cloth.

Gil actually leaned into the touch, surprising Scott. “Dunno,” Gil muttered, “a while.”

“Do you want me to get Lexi?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Gil’s eyes shut, his breathing slow.

The grey t-shirt Gil wore had sweat marks around the neck, even though he’d started to shiver. His bare feet peeked out from the slightly too long blue plaid pajama pants. Scott gently maneuvered Gil’s head from the wall just long enough to put the cool cloth around the back of his neck. “I’ll be right back,” He quickly stood, and rushed out of the room.

In the Galley he grabbed a cup and filled it with purified ice water. Upon returning he found Gil on his knees, back curved as he dry heaved into the toilet, nothing coming up. He spit, and dropped back ungracefully, his back against hitting the wall.

Scott took the cloth back, and held out the cup. “Drink.”

Gil’s nose scrunched.

“Stop being petulant,” Scott whispered. “You need something in your system. Drink.” He put the cloth back under fresh, cool water, and rung it out. When he turned back, Gil was taking small sips of the water. “Good,” he whispered, even though Gil hadn’t drank that much before he put the glass down on the floor.

Scott reached with the cloth only to be swatted away, before he could question the reaction, Gil shifted quickly, getting his knees under him, heaving the water back up. Scott grimaced.

Gil gently kicked him in the leg. “Go away,” he said sounding utterly miserable.

“I’m not leaving you like this,” Scott replied.

Gil sat back down, closing his eyes. Scott took the opportunity to wipe the man’s face, and neck down again. “Do you think you can make it to the med-bay without throwing up?”

One of Gil’s grey eyes opened. “I said you’re not waking Lexi.”

“I didn’t say I would.” Scott shifted in his crouched stance. “But I’m sure she has some anti-nausea meds in there, but I’m not sure where. She’d also have a bucket, and beds.”

Gil looked at war with himself, but despite his apparent lack of desire to move, the promise of the meds, and a bed must have won him over. “I think I can. Besides, I can’t have much to bring up.”

Scott stood and helped Gil up to his feet, before grabbing the cup of water from the floor. They made it to the med-bay without incident. “Lay down,” Scott said, setting down the glass of water on the small try next to the bed. “SAM?”

[Yes, Pathfinder?]

“Do you know where Lexi keeps the anti-nausea medications?”

[Yes. They are located to your right, bottom row of cupboards, third from the right, second shelf, second box to the right.]

“Thanks, SAM.” Scott found the box. “And a bucket?”

[Under bed closest to you.]

Scott grabbed the bucket, and brought it over to Gil who reached out for it desperately, and Scott rushed forward, the sound of Gil’s retching echoing in the bucket. Gil spit and cursed into the bucket.

[For Mr. Brodie’s weight, two pills, Pathfinder.]

Scott looked at the pills, then to Gil. “Do you think you can actually keep these down? Lexi might have a shot for this sort of thing.”

“Just gimme the pills, Scott,” Gil said weakly.

Scott popped two of the pills out of their individual packaging, and put them into Gil’s hand, before passing the glass of water. He held the bucket while Gil took the pills, and drank a bit of the water. “Lay down,” Scott ordered. “I’ll be right back. Will you be okay?”

“I’m a full grown man,” Gil said, his eyes narrowing. “I can handle being sick on my own, thank you very much.”

“Didn’t say you couldn’t. “I’ll be right back,” he reiterated. He really did need to use the washroom.

When Scott returned, the bucket had been placed on the floor, half the water in the cup was gone, Gil was laying on his side, already asleep. Being sick had clearly taken the energy out of him. Scott rubbed his own exhausted eyes before checking Gil over, he was slightly shivering. He searched until he found the spare blankets, and draped two of the thin ones over Gil.

“SAM, dim the lights, please.”

The lights in the med-bay dimmed down to a soft glow. Scott sat down on the bed beside Gil’s, and laid facing the man. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable, and surely not as spacious as the bed in his pathfinder’s quarters, but he wasn’t going to leave Gil alone like this. He stared at the sleeping man, the anti-nausea meds finally letting him get some much needed rest.

Scott stared at the mess of copper hair, the stubble along Gil’s jawline, watching the man’s hand twist a little in the sheet hugging it closer to his body. Breathing deep and even, Scott’s own breath subconsciously slowed to match. And while watching Gil sleep, Scott lost his own battle with consciousness.

::

“Take a deep breath.”

“Lexi, relax, I’m not dying.”

“Can you just be a good patient, and do as I say?” Lexi replied. “Take a deep breath for me.”

The intake of air. A second. An exhale.

“Good, good.”

Scott finally managed to get his eyes open, momentarily disoriented by not waking up in his own bed. Lexi moved around Gil, her omni-tool lit up. Gil sat at the edge of his bed looking much better than he had the night before.

Lexi noticed Scott being awake first. “You should have woken me.”

“I told him not to,” Gil said. “And I’m fine.”

“I’m the doctor on this ship.” Lexi sighed, returning to her computer. “It’s literally my job to aid the ill.”

Gil glanced over at Scott, and gave him a small smile. “You didn’t have to stay with me.”

“Yes, I did.”

Gil scoffed. “It’s not part of your duties, Pathfinder.”

“No, it’s not,” Scott replied, finally sitting up. Gil’s expression shifted from slightly annoyed to curious. “You were sick. I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“It appears you had an adverse reaction to the Zaaura leaves you ate yesterday,” Lexi said.

“You mean the leaves that were deemed safe for Human and Asari consumption?” Scott asked. “The leaves I didn’t want to eat!”

Lexi sighed. “Yes. Those ones. Gil, I suggest you avoid consuming them in the future.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Gil replied. “But I’m fine otherwise?”

“Bloodwork has come back clean,” Lexi replied. “It’s a sensitivity, not an allergic reaction. There are other plants from Havarl with similar composition. I would suggest you avoid them as well.”

Gil rolled his shoulders a little. “Fine by me. Am I good to go?”

“Yes, but please, take it easy today, and drink a lot of fluids.”

“Sure, Doc.” Gil slid off the bed. He glanced at Scott, then back to Lexi who was back at her computer. He took a deep breath, and turned all the way toward Scott. “Thank you,” he said, a little begrudgingly. “I really appreciate what you did last night.”

“You’re welcome,” Scott replied, trying to remain professional even when his hands itched to touch. Something about Gil’s kind, and easy-going nature pulled Scott in. Even when the man was being a little grouchy about being sick, Scott was still drawn in like a moth to the flame… and just as likely to get burned. He reminded himself that Gil was a member of his crew.

“Tempest crew,” Kallo’s voice came in clear over the speakers, “we are now on the approach to Voeld.”

Scott sighed and scratched at his chest, only to realize he’d been walking around in only his black boxer-briefs all night.

Gil shifted in his stance. “Be safe out there.”

“I will,” Scott assured him.

Gil nodded. He kind of motioned toward the door before he turned and left.

After the door closed, Lexi turned to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Scott asked standing up, hissing when his bare feet hit the cold metal floor.

“Your blatantly obvious crush on Gil.”

“Wh-what?” His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Lexi, don’t be absurd.”

“Oh?” She turned, a smirk on her face and a twinkle in her eyes. “I’m absurd?”

“Yes. I-I don’t have a crush on Gil. I’m- we’re-that’s…” he huffed out a breath. “I need to get ready for Voeld.”

She just smiled. “Wear your heated under-gear, or you’ll catch your death of cold.”

He glared at her, but it was softened by a little smirk. “Yes, Mother.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been ages, I know. I've had a ton of computer issues, and have spent time trying to finish just one story, but it's still taking forever, sooooo... here's an update? <3

Scott told them about Meridian. Tann, Addison, even Kesh, shot him down. Even though the new Salarian Pathfinder, Hayjer, backed him up, Tann shut it right down. Even with his anger, Scott remained professional.

“Excuse me, Pathfinder?” Tann’s secretary interrupted. “We have an urgent message for you. Your sister is awake.”

He felt as though the air had been punched from his lungs. “Sara!”

“Go,” Hayjer said. “We can meet later.”

And Scott ran. He bumped into Liam, uttered an apology without stopping. “Where is the fire?” Liam shouted.

“There is a fire?” Jaal asked, sounding alarmed.

Scott knew Liam would explain the idiom, and wouldn’t hold the whole nearly shoving him over thing against him. The tram moved too slow, and he paced until the door open, and he ran once more, jumping down the stairs, turning sideways to fit through the opening door pieces of the cryo bay.

He froze upon seeing her. Sara, sitting up, her red hair had hung a little longer than she used to keep it, but just a few inches past her jaw, and hid the tattoo on her neck that matched his own. Her bright green eyes were lit up, and a smile grew wide and toothy. Her arms opened wide. “Scott!”

He rushed to her, bending to hug her, gentle at first, then tighter. He pulled back just enough, but sat next to her, their knees touching. “How are you feeling?”

“A little groggy,” she admitted. “Harry tells me I’ve been in a coma for a few months. Which is annoying. I’ve missed so much. Tell me all about the Golden planets. There must be a tropical one. I want the tropical one, Scott. I want waterfalls, and palm trees. Or whatever trees are like palm trees. Like, exotic trees, you know, and water, and relaxation, and,” she trailed off. “Scott?”

“I lied.”

The last bit of her smile died. “No tropics?”

“Not really. Aya’s close, I suppose, but it’s the homeland of the Angara, and they already rotate their own out on a lottery system because it can’t support them all.”

“Angara?”

“I have a lot to catch you up on.”

“Are any of the planets habitable?”

“I’ve been working on fixing a few with the vaults,” Scott said. “Eos is a desert, but livable. Voeld has an outpost, but it’s covered in ice. Kadara… is complicated and there are a lot of exiles there, but I’ve managed to get it protected. I’m working on Havarl. Meridian could clear a lot of it up, but Director Tann doesn’t want me to go against the Archon- who’s the leader of the Kett.”

“Slow down,” Sara said. “I- I don’t understand. You still have to explain the Angera- Angara, An-whatever-they-are. What is Meridian? What are these vaults and how do they ‘fix’ planets? What the hell are Kett, and who is the Archon?” She then glanced at the door. “And where the hell is Dad? I know I’m not _that_ important, but considering I’m his only daughter, I figured he’d put in an appearance.”

Scott’s teeth pressed together so hard that the muscle in his jaw jumped. “He’s dead.”

She looked horrified, her eyes wide, jaw slack. “What?”

“Dad’s dead,” he repeated. “We were on Eos. We had our first encounter with the Kett. We’d won, and then things all went to hell. I took a bad fall off a cliff, and the air was toxic. My helmet had shattered on the fall. I couldn’t breathe. Dad… Dad took his helmet off, put it on me. I’m sorry, Sara.”

He expected yelling, if not for his part in their father’s death, then for lying about it. The longer the silence went on, the worse he thought it would be. He did not, however, expect her to wrap her arms around him. When he didn’t immediately react, she just held tighter. Slowly, his arms raised, and fitted back around her. The feeling he got wasn’t exactly peace, but it was something close. 

He felt a little puff of warm air against his neck, and a slight tremble. “I’m sorry that you had to deal with that on your own.” Her hand threaded through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp in a familiar way, she always did that when she was trying in her own awkward way to comfort.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“It’s weird. It should hurt more, but it’s kind of like telling me that Roy Donahue died.”

“Who’s Roy Donahue?”

“Exactly,” Sara said, her sadness not caused by the death of her father, but in mourning of a father she’d never really had.  “It’s not your fault, Scott,” her words were little more than a whisper, but her absolving him of guilt in their father’s death did more than anyone else’s words on the matter ever could. “It’s not your fault.”

He sniffled a bit, pulling himself back together before he leaned back, and out of her embrace. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

“Me too,” she said with a little smirk, even if her eyes were misty. Ryder Twins; shutting down emotions, and having unhealthy coping mechanisms since 2163. “Now, tell me everything.”

::

When Scott thought being on Elaaden couldn’t be any worse, the Nomad caught fire. “OUT NOW!” he shouted at Cora, and Drack. The three of them safely evacuated, and took cover as the Kett shot at them. The sweltering heat made it hard to focus, and he could hear his life-support system trying to keep up with the abuse the heat put it through. His body still started sweating, even with the few little bursts of cool air the life-support gave off.

He blinked hard, re-focused his aim, and took a shot at one of the last Chosen. The bullet hit its mark, right between the eyes, blood sprayed as the body fell. “That’s it,” he said. “I think we’re clear.”

“Only now we have a bigger problem,” Cora said, glancing at the Nomad, the front of it giving off plumes of black smoke as fire licked the hood. “Gil’s gonna be pissed.”

Scott ignored the commentary from Cora as he looked around. “There,” he pointed at the domed structure the Kett had been defending. “We need to get inside before life-support gives out.”

“No arguments from me,” Cora said heading that way, pausing only to fire a bullet into a Kett whose body writhed on the ground.

Drack toed it with his boot before seeming to confirm it really being dead with a nod of his head, and he followed after her.

Scott followed, his right side cramping up with dehydration. “Tempest?”

 _“Pathfinder,”_ Suvi’s voice came in clear through the comms. _“What do you need?”_

“An extraction.”

 _“Usually you put in the command from the Nomad,”_ Suvi sounded a little questioning, but not angry.

He took a deep breath. “Have Gil ready.”

Her tinkling laughter created a bit of static on the line. _“Oh dear.”_

 _“Ryder!”_ Gil’s voice all gravel and smoke took over from Suvi. _“What are these readings on the Nomad? What did you do to my baby? Looks like she’s overheated.”_

Cora gave an undignified snort, sitting pretty on a cargo box, with her helmet off. “That’s one way of putting it.” Her skin shimmered with sweat, and her hair was plastered to the side of her face.

Knowing he couldn’t avoid it, Scott sighed. “Have a fire extinguisher ready.” 

_“What!”_

Scott looked upward. “The Nomad is on fire.”

Gil practically growled over the line, a low sound of frustration. _“How did that happen?”_

“He was running over Kett,” Drack said with a deep, rumbling laugh.

 _“Oh, for fuck sake, Ryder,” Gil_ muttered.

“Look, can you guys just get us out of here?” Scott asked, a slight pleading tone to his voice. The heat had exhausted him completely, and his body was angry about the lack of water. “It’s too damn hot to go anywhere without the Nomad.”

 _“We’re coming in,”_ Kallo said.

 _“ETA five minutes,”_ Suvi supplied.

Later, aboard the Tempest, Scott was both showered and rehydrated. Once dressed in his Initiative hoodie, and track pants he went down to the cargo bay to find Gil. “Hey,” he said when he came in, not wanting to startle the man at work.

“Hey, yourself,” Gil replied poking his head out from around the front of the Nomad. “We’re going to need to do a supply run in Kadara. I can fix a few of these things with materials on hand, but this fire did some major damage.” He rubbed the back of his neck, staring into the depths of all kinds of the machine. “I’m hoping the computer components are still good.”

“Yeah, of course. SAM inform Kallo of our change in flight plan,” Scott said.

_[Affirmative, Pathfinder.]_

He remained standing there with his hands in his pockets as Gil worked under the hood. “So… uh, that’s it?”

Gil’s eyes shifted, and a brow raised. “What do you mean?”

“No lecture about hurting your baby?”

“Well,” Gil’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Now that you mention it. Why the hell were you running over Kett?”

Scott couldn’t help but smile back. “There were a lot of them and only three of us. I was evening the odds.”

“Ever practical, and tactical,” Gil said, with an undertone of warmth, and admiration.

Scott shrugged. “And you fitted it with that mod so when the shields give out, it does that shockwave thing.”

Gil sighed, as he often did whenever Scott oversimplified tech jargon. “I modded it with an Emergency Shield Discharge.”

“That. So, I ran over a few. Then the shield blew out, and killed a few more. It made the battle pretty easy, but-“

Gil patted something inside that could have been the engine, or the computer bits, or the windshield wiper fluid for all Scott knew. “Our Nomad here was a casualty.”

Scott braced his elbows against side panel by the open hood, leaning heavily. “Ah, she’s only wounded. You’ll patch her up, right?”

Gil appeared amused. “That I will.” He returned to work.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly, I'm going to take eighteen years writing this. I am so sorry about the infrequent updates. I'm the worst.

The sun set on Kadara as the Tempest landed on the port. It was too late to go out into the field, but early enough that Scott figured they could get a lot of their supplies. When the docking sequence had finished, he went down to the cargo bay, dressed lightly with his leather jacket hiding his Initiative affiliation. Jaal remained in the cargo bay, doing something with the Angaran equivalent of the traditional omni-tool.

“Are you not coming?” Scott asked as a humid breeze came in though the open ramp.

“I would prefer not to,” Jaal answered honestly. They’d come a long way toward trusting one another. Ever since the Kett facility, and saving the Moshae, Jaal had been considerably more open, and less suspicious of his Milky Way companions. “I can think of few places worse than Kadara Port.”

“Alright. Lock up when I leave. Suvi might be up for some discussion on Human Religion if you’re interested.”

“As riveting as conversations are with Suvi, she did already leave for the evening.”

Scott’s brows raised. “What? Suvi’s on the Port?”

“Yes.”

The sweet, slight young woman on Kadara fucking Port. A sharp sense of panic went through him. “Who did she go with?”

“Gil and Vetra.”

Vetra, Scott knew, could handle her own anywhere. Still, Gil and Suvi weren’t ones for combat. Scott knew firsthand how dangerous Kadara could be. “Thanks,” he muttered before rushing out. “SAM, likely locations?”

 _[Merchants are likely. Both Ms. Nyx, and Mr. Brodie required supplies.]_ Sam offered. _[I would suspect Kralla’s Song, and Tartarus as candidates as well.]_

Just what Scott had been thinking, and hoping he’d be wrong. He made a swift sweep through the market place but didn’t spot the trio. He hoped for the good sense of them being at Kralla’s song, at least it wasn’t a bar located in the slums where the man who betrayed him hung out. He checked the place out, but they weren’t there.

He took the elevator down to the slums. The air stank of sulfur, and he’d rather be anywhere else. He’d take Veold over this. Hell, he’d take Elaaden. He found himself dragging his feet the closer he got. Torn, he both wanted to see Reyes, and hoped he’d go unnoticed. He got through the door, and looked around.

Suvi’s hair stood out like a flare against the dark sky. Vetra sat with her back against the wall, and he knew it was so she could keep the entire room in her vision- because he did the same thing. Gil brought a round of drinks over to the table, and Scott took a seat far away, just to keep an eye on them. Tactically it wasn’t the best, but it did have the best view of them, and still far enough away in the darkened section of the bar that they were unlikely to spot him. They seemed light, laughter came to them easy, and he wanted that with a painful longing.

 _[There is someone approaching on your right.]_ SAM warned. SAM could only see what he did, but sensed things better, and faster than he could.

Scott turned his head just slightly, and caught sight of Reyes. The man didn’t give that confident smirk, nor a playful wink. Instead, he looked rather nervous as he approached. “Do you mind if I join you?”

With one hand, Scott gestured to the seat beside him, and Reyes took it. “I haven’t heard of any trouble from my outpost.”

“If I have anything to say about it, you won’t,” Reyes promised. “Scott… I am sorry about how things played out.”

“You lied to me,” Scott said, dragging his eyes away from his companions who seemed to be having a great time. His green eyes narrowed on Reyes. “I get it. I- I understand but-“ he shook his head. “I don’t trust you.”

Reyes’s face fell. “I will do whatever I can to make this up to you.” They sat in silence for a moment, neither sure what to say. “Let me get us some drinks.”

“Oh, now you’re paying?” Scott teased, even if his heart wasn’t really in it.

A smirk curved Reyes’s lips. “I’ll be right back.” And he left, walking toward the bar.

Scott knew better, but his eyes trailed after Reyes. Nothing good could come of them being together. He could imagine telling Sara about this, and practically felt her disapproving stare.

Reyes returned soon after, setting down a cup in front of him. “It’s strong,” Reyes warned.

“Good,” Scott replied taking a sip. It burned all the way down, and he grimaced. “That is foul.”

“It certainly isn’t six hundred year old whiskey,” Reyes said with a great deal of longing.

Scott couldn’t help but think back to that night, the Kadara sunset, priceless whiskey, and lips that silenced the chaos of his mind since the moment he woke up after his father’s death. He couldn’t help but find his eyes lingering on those lips yet again.

Reyes licked his lips, and Scott felt himself grow hot under the collar, his eyes shifting to meet those of Reyes, a warm golden amber. “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Reyes whispered, his hand moving from the table to slowly rest on Scott’s knee. “You’re so tense.” Those amber eyes flicked down to his lips, then returned eye contact. “I can help.”

Weakness- the understanding burned more than the alcohol, but Scott leaned in, barely a breath away before Reyes tilted his head just so. Their lips met, warm, a little chapped, but instead of calming Scott down, it amped him up. His thoughts a mess of betrayal, and anger, emotions he had supressed rather than dealt with came to the surface like a wave bring shipwreck debris to shore. Instead of finding comfort, he pressed harder, nipped at Reyes’s lips in a display of his frustration.

That hand on his knee shifted a little further up his thigh, and Scott’s hand clamped around the back of Reyes’s neck. “Yes,” Scott whispered on the edge of desperation.

He caught one word, growled loud enough to be heard over the music- maybe he could have heard the entire sentence had he not been so preoccupied, but that one word had him pulling away from Reyes.

_Initiative._

He pulled back, his eyes whipped back to the table where he’d last seen his companions. Vetra stood now, Suvi tucked behind her, Gil on the other side of the table eyeing the group. “Shit.” It was the beginning of a bar fight if he ever saw one, and of course, they were all weaponless and armourless. He pushed out of his seat, and wove around a Salarian who was watching the drama unfold.  

Vetra moved quickly when one of the men readied a punch- and everything went to madness from there. He could hardly keep up with the fighting, all he knew was Vetra had her hands full, and while Gil threw a mean right hook, he wasn’t capable of keeping up in a three on one fight. Scott shot out a kick to the back of the knee of one of the women fighting Vetra.

He grabbed the back of the armour on the Salarian winding up to throw a punch at Gil. With a yank the Salarian took a few steps back, and he followed his own momentum with a left cross. All of his hand-to-hand combat came back with startling clarity that might have something to do with SAM. The odds were against them, but he tried to keep them back from Gil and Suvi at least. He worried a little less about Vetra, that woman had skills. He connected with a straight right, and the human male’s nose snapped under the force. As the man stumbled back, Scott noticed that Reyes had joined in the fight, and helped even the odds for Vetra.

As they cleared out their opponents, Scott started thinking they might just pull this off.

“Gil!” Suvi shouted, diverting Scott’s attention. His eyes skimmed over Suvi’s waif like figure still standing out of reach as he turned toward Gil who had a large Krogan swinging a crowbar behind him.

_Gil._

_[No.]_

His hand shot out, biotics flaring, tingling along his skin as he focussed. The energy snapped out of him and into the Krogan throwing him with the kind of force that knocked him out, the crowbar hit the floor with a clang.

“Holy shit.” Vetra said, somewhere behind him, sounded impressed. “I didn’t even know you were a biotic.”

Gil stared at him, shock in his silver eyes. “Scott. You’re bleeding.”

 _[Tell them you need to get back to the Tempest.]_ He could sense SAM’s frustration, without his armour, (or Vetra’s for that matter, since he was synced with the crew) the AI didn’t have access to comms, and couldn’t tell them himself. _[You’re in immediate need of medical attention.]_

His limbs felt tingly, and his fingers wouldn’t stop twitching. He tried to listen to SAM’s advice, but couldn’t get his tongue to coordinate words. He couldn’t focus on Gil anymore, but stared in that direction, everything kept moving too fast.

_[I am trying to prevent you from having a seizure, Scott. Try to remain calm.]_

His right leg twitched, before his right leg and arm started to violently shake. He lost his balance, but found himself in Gil’s arms.

“Sei-zure,” he managed to say, even if he had to take a breath halfway.

“Fuck.” Gil’s grey eyes shifted away, and up. “We need to get him to the Doc.”

He saw Suvi’s red hair over Gil’s shoulder. “We’ll get you home,” she whispered, the lilt in her voice oddly soothing.

“S-S-S-SAM-“ Scott stuttered, panting as he tried to catch his breath. A good dose of panic hit his system. His right leg twitched again.

_[You will be okay.]_

::

He woke up in the Tempest med-bay, confused. “Lexi?”

She glared at him. “You’re awake.”

“And you’re pissed.” He shifted, his head felt as though he’d been stabbed with an ice-pick. “Fuck!” His hands went up to his head, like he could shelter it from the pain.

“You lied!” She snapped. “We almost lost you because of your incorrect medical files.”

“Can you save the lecture for when I’m not in so much pain that I’m wishing I had died. Fuck. Dim the lights or something. SAM?”

[Yes, Scott?]

“Pain,” he breathed, his head felt ready to explode. “Help me.”

[Desensitizing pain receptors.]

A second later the crippling pain dulled to something more manageable, and he nearly cried from relief. “Thank you, SAM.”

[You’re welcome.]

He tried to think of what could have caused the pain. If Lexi was going on about his medical files that left his biotic implant. He tried to think back, tried to piece the night together. He remembered talking to Jaal, and leaving the Tempest. Bits and pieces of the market came back to him, like a corrupted video skipping. “What happened?”

“You can ask the three Musketeers,” Lexi said. “They’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

As if on cue, Suvi poked her head in, and then let out a sigh. “Oh, Scott,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?” Behind her, Vetra poked her head in, and Gil followed.

“Not the best,” Scott admitted, knowing there would be no way of hiding how terrible he felt. “What the hell happened?”

Vetra glanced at Lexi, then back to Scott. “How much do you remember?”

“Last thing I kind of remember was walking through the markets on Kadara,” Scott tried to sit up only to be blinded by a flash of white hot pain at the base of his skull. He let out a sharp, pained cry, tears burning at his eyes.

“Don’t be moving around,” Lexi snapped.

“No shit,” he muttered.

“We should let you rest,” Gil said, looking awfully guilty.

“No, what happened?” Scott argued.

“We were having drinks in Tartarus,” Vetra gestured to herself, Suvi, and Gil. “Some assholes started in about us being Initiative. They started a fight. You came in soon after,” her eyes widened marginally. “With Reyes.”

Scott frowned. He didn’t doubt that Vetra was telling the truth, but he couldn’t put it back together.

[I would assist your memory, but doing so, so soon after your surgery, would be ill advised.]

“So, I took a hit to the back of the head?”

“No, you used your biotics,” Lexi snapped. “Your medical file says L1 implant. Biotic levels below-average.”

That would explain it. He wanted the option of getting away from the scolding, but any kind of movement brought pain.

“A Krogan had some kind of pipe or something,” Suvi said, her hand gently taking his. “Was about to hit Gil with it. You saved him.”

“Big damn hero,” Gil said, his voice flat, and his face pinched with the same kind of guilt Scott knew well from staring in a mirror. He shook his head. “Lexi says your implant is actually an L2, and that it was defective… said that you’d have to know to have those medical files changed so you could serve in the Alliance.”

“It’s complicated,” Scott admitted.

“So you knew it was defective, and you used your biotics anyway,” Gil shook his head. “Damn it, Scott.”

“Look, yes, okay. My implant is defective, and it’s too dangerous to switch out.  As long as I don’t use it, the implant doesn’t…”

“Short circuit inside of your brain,” Lexi supplied. “Frying organic matter and-“

“Can we not discuss the ‘frying of my organic matter,’ thank you,” Scott said, his eyes resettled on Gil. “We didn’t have armour, or weapons, and that Krogan could have killed you with one swing. I couldn’t- you’re… I couldn’t.”

“Thought you didn’t remember,” Vetra said, her voice held a hint of mirth.

“I know myself well enough to put the pieces I have together.”

“We can discuss this further later,” Lexi said, studying the readings on the monitors. “Scott needs rest.” She glared at him. “And there will be a discussion.”

As they went to leave, he called out for Vetra, and she stayed behind. “You said Reyes was with me.”

“Yes, joined the fight when you did. Looked both angry, and worried when you started seizing.” She frowned. “You really scared the lot of us. Gil the worst, I think.” She frowned. “Reyes helped us get you to the docks, which reminds me, he wanted an update ASAP. Anything you want me to say… or not say? I can leave him hanging, if you want. Your call, Boss.”

“Let him know I’m fine, and that I’ll message him when I get the chance.”

Vetra nodded. “You got it.”


End file.
